Eternal
by TwistingMoonbeam
Summary: A year after the movie. Charlotte Bennett hadn't believed in Jack Frost until she stumbled upon him one snow day. Jack brings a world of magic with him as he and Charlotte become friends, but evil lurks in many forms in the world of the Guardians, and Charlotte will learn that one myth will go to great lengths to have her by their side. What is this power she never knew she had?
1. The Mysterious Flying Boy

**Chapter 1: The Mysterious Flying Boy**

Charlotte Bennett squinted into the wintry sun as her younger brother ran by her.

"Snow day!" Jamie hollered, tugging on his cap.

All down the line of houses on Blueberry Street, kids ran outside with snow jackets and mittens, cries of "SNOW DAY!" echoing off the streetlights. Charlotte smiled as Jamie met up with his three friends and split into pairs for a snowball fight.

"Aren't you going to go enjoy your day off, Charlotte?" Her mother appeared behind her, cell phone against her shoulder. She was already dressed in her gray suit jacket, pencil skirt, and dull blue tie. Her high heels blasted her off the ground and made her inches taller like a real rocket ship.

"Yeah," she answered, taking her own phone out of her coat pocket. "I'm just gonna ask Serena if she wants to join me."

As she dialed Serena's number, Charlotte bounded up the stairs and flew past her open bedroom door. Her pink room was covered with photographs, on the walls and scattered across her desk, and light was filtering through her blinds to make it look like fairy dust was in the air. She grabbed her favorite camera from her desk, put new film in it, adjusted the strap that hung around her neck, and put on pink snow boots to accommodate her magenta coat, matching mittens, and black jeans. She pushed up her dark-rimmed glasses, fixed her white beret, and went back outside.

Serena hadn't answered the first time, but Charlotte was rewarded after a second try. "Hullo?" came Serena Kingston's groggy voice on the other end.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" Charlotte yelled. "Snow day! Meet me at my house?"

"Ugh, Char," Serena groaned. "Snow day equals five more hours of sleep! Call me back at noon."

"Aw, c'mon, it's a beautiful—"

_Click. _

"—day," Charlotte finished with a sigh. "Well, no surprise there. Looks like I'm on my own." She glanced down at her camera with a grin. "But as long as I've got this baby, I'm not alone."

The sidewalks were covered with kids. Twins Luke and Nina Gladstone were building a snowman across the street. The air was chilled but the sun was bursting with joy and illumination, the sky pale blue. It was a perfect snow day, in Charlotte's opinion, and the other kids seemed to agree with her.

_I've gotta get this, _she thought excitedly. She ran down to the end of her front walkway and focused in on the orange and blue horizon. _A little closer—there! Perfect. _Charlotte smirked and was about to snap the photo when something flew in front of the shot.

It was a shadow at first, hovering in mid-air, but then she could tell it was a person. They were hunched over with crossed legs, a long curved object in their hand. They sat there in the air, silent.

"What the—?" Charlotte muttered.

Suddenly the shadow burst forward and she saw a face: deathly pale, with icy blue eyes, silver eyebrows, and spiky white hair. A boy, maybe her age, or maybe a year older. He was flying, and he stretched out and yawned, smirking down at her. "Well, like they always say, a picture's worth a thousand words!" He posed, making a peace sign and a huge grin, and as she took the picture, he then flew right by her, causing a huge gust of wind.

The force of the pass-by blew Charlotte right off her feet. She landed in the snow, white powdery magic scraping against her glasses and entering her mouth. She blinked in wonder, a million questions popping up in her head. _What. The. Heck?_

Charlotte sat up and immediately inspected her camera for damage. A panicky feeling appeared inside her as she saw the lens was cracked. "No, no, no!" She shook her head. "No way. Not my favorite camera!"

Sadly, she peered at the photo that had just zipped out of her camera. Had she captured the mysterious—and soon to be dead—boy? Charlotte was perplexed to find that no, she hadn't captured him. Not even a smudge or blur of blue and white—he wasn't in the photo at all!

_He came at me after I took the picture, _she thought. _So why isn't he in it?_

"Oh no! Whoops."

Charlotte glanced up. The boy was floating above her, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry, miss!" he called down to her. "Even though you can't see me . . . I'm still sorry!"

He was about to turn around when she called, "Can't see you? What are you talking about?"

The boy stopped abruptly, toes flat out, like he was about to descend. He looked back at her and flew closer, a confused expression on his face. "Two plus two is . . . ?" he asked.

Charlotte rose and dusted the snow off her coat and pants. "Why are you asking me that? It's obviously four."

The boy gasped and flew backwards. "No way! You can see me?"

Charlotte cocked her head at him and frowned. "Yes, I can see you, strange flying boy with the stick that looks like a candy cane."

"Hey, candy canes are North's thing," he replied automatically. He flew closer to her, floating not even five feet before her. He lay down on his stick on his stomach. "You can see me!"

"Yes, now that we've got that established, who are you?"

"You're just like Jamie," the boy commented. "You even look like him. Brown hair, brown eyes—you've even got freckles like him!"

"Jamie?" Charlotte questioned, narrowing her eyes. "Jamie Bennett? You know him?"

"Heck yeah! We're friends. I met him a year ago because he can see me too," the boy answered. "Ya know him?"

"Yes, I do know him," she said slowly. "He's my brother."

The boy's jaw dropped. "No way. So that means . . . you're Lottie!"

Charlotte knew it the instant he mentioned Jamie's nickname for her. Ever since he was ten, Jamie had talked about the boy that floated in front of her non-stop. He was Jamie's hero—most of his school reports were on him, he whispered to him at night before he went to bed, and he sometimes even dreamed of him, the two of them flying through a dark, ice-covered forest.

_This is impossible._

"Jack Frost?" she whispered.


	2. THE Jack Frost?

**Chapter 2: THE Jack Frost?**

The boy's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Charlotte. "So you've heard of me."

"How can I not?" she huffed, slightly shaking. "Jamie doesn't shut up about you."

"He talks about me?"

"_All _the time."

Jack Frost revealed a true-blue smile that made the sides of Charlotte's lips perk up. The fact that Jamie talked about him seemed to make him the happiest boy in the world. "Speaking of which," he said, "where is he?"

"Somewhere playing with his friends—"

"We've gotta find him!" Jack said. "He's gotta know about this. You can see me!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Charlotte said quickly, holding up her hands. "Calm down! Just, um . . . chill." She bit back a laugh.

Jack blew a piece of snowy hair out of his face and smirked. "How original."

"I take pride in my comedic talents," she quipped, breathless. "But look: we can't talk like this in public . . . if you're even real and I'm just not asleep. I'm getting weird looks." Just as she spoke, Mrs. Gladstone and Mrs. Rickman whispered and pointed to her as they watched their kids play in the snow. Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Follow me."

She waded through the snow in her front yard and started around the house to the backyard. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Jack hesitate and then fly after her with a cheeky grin, like he was pleasantly surprised.

The Bennett backyard was an open area, equipped with an in-ground pool (currently covered for the cold weather), lounge chairs, and a swing set resting in the far right corner. Snow blanketed everything, making the backyard resemble a winter wonderland. Charlotte listened closely as her mother backed out of the driveway in the front of the house, waited a few moments for Jack to come closer, and then punched him in the arm.

To her surprise, she made contact.

"Yowch!" Jack yelled, rubbing the area. "Jeez, what was that for?"

"First, you pushed me," Charlotte answered, massaging her fist. "Secondly, you broke my favorite camera via pushing me."

"Favorite camera? The one you're holding?"

"Yes. Look at it, the lens is cracked! I won't be able to take pictures until I get a new one."

"You find out the legendary Jack Frost exists, and your first impression is to punch him?"

Charlotte eyed him coyly. "You haven't exactly given me a reason _not _to, Snow Miser. So tell me: how exactly do you know my brother?"

"Okay, okay, relax," Jack said. He hopped up on his staff, hands clutching the end part while his feet rested on the curved part. "It happened a year ago. Me and a few . . . friends had a problem we needed to solve, and Jamie helped. A lot. We kept in touch afterward. He's a great kid. One of my best friends."

Charlotte sat on the swing, head in her hands. _I'm asleep. But how could I punch him? I was up late last night studying, I'm probably still in my bed, exhausted. _She glanced up at him. "So you're _the _Jack Frost."

"Not exactly a common name." Jack shrugged.

"Winter Spirit? Controller of snow, ice, and frost?"

"Yup."

"Prove it."

Jack raised one silver eyebrow. "Um . . . I'm flying?"

Charlotte shook her head. "Do something specific. Use your powers . . . or something."

Jack jumped down from his staff and picked up a fistful of snow. He rolled it in his hands and then gently began to blow into it. The clump of snow glowed teal and formed into a perfect sphere in his hand. "Ta-da! Perfect snowball." His eyes swiveled up and widened. "Whoa, what's that?"

"Huh?" Charlotte turned and squinted at the sky. "I don't—"

_BAM! _Something hard and cold smashed into the square of her back, sending chills through her like tiny ambulances. The snowball was followed shortly by hysteric boyish laughter. "Gotcha!" Jack chuckled.

Charlotte turned to face him slowly. "Oh, I believe you now, Mr. Snowflake." Before he could intake breath to laugh some more, she reached down, scooped up snow, and threw it right back into his face. "Right back atcha!"

Jack blinked as the snow fell off his face. He grinned, delighted. "Someone's asking for a snowball fight!"

Charlotte picked up more snow. "You bet I . . ." Her eyes doubled in size as realization hit her like a snowball the size of a truck. "You're really Jack Frost. I'm not dreaming."

"I doubt even Walt Disney's imagination could dream up something _this _handsome," Jack mused, pointing to his face.

Charlotte took a deep breath. _In, out, in, out. You're just talking to Jack Frost. No big deal. Wrong. _"So . . . Jack Frost. What are you doing here, in a tiny town like Burgess?"

"Jamie," Jack answered, actually beaming. "I promised him last August I'd come today! The ninth of December. I've been making time to hang out with him since we met last Easter."

"Easter . . ." The pieces fell into place in her head. "No _wonder _I don't know any significance about that day for Jamie," Charlotte recalled vocally. "I was in the hospital."

"Hospital? What for?" Jack asked.

"Broken leg," Charlotte replied. She looked at him sneakily. "I slipped on ice that last day of school before the snow day while walking to the bus stop."

"Oh." Charlotte was surprised that he could blush, considering his pale skin. "Uh, sorry about that. I don't remember being close to Burgess around that time . . . I guess I'm stronger than I thought. Wasn't a personal thing, I promise. If I had known you were Jamie's sister, I would have hung around to help you up."

"Not a problem." Charlotte waved her hand. "But that explains a lot. Whatever Jamie helped you and your friends with, I wasn't even home for it."

"He never told you about it?" Jack asked, scratching his nose.

"Not that I remember." Charlotte shrugged. "So what _did _happen?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but a voice interrupted him from behind. _"Jack!"_

Jamie came rushing through the backyard with a huge smile on his face. He wore a brown winter coat, red and blue mittens, jeans, and sneakers, a green winter hat with fuzzy cotton ruffles on the side on top of his mop of chestnut hair. Charlotte watched as he hugged Jack around the waist, face in the Winter Spirit's blue hoodie. "You're here!" he said, his voice muffled.

"Jamie!" Jack said, joy obvious in his eyes. He ruffled Jamie's hair, messing up his hat. "'Course I'm here, squirt! Did you really think I'd just forget about you?"

"Nah," Jamie replied, looking up. "You're reliable like that. I missed you."

Jack got on one knee so that he could meet Jamie's eyes. He put a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "I missed you too. I've actually been looking for you all morning. I met up with this firecracker over here though, and wouldn't you believe it, it's your sis!"

Jamie stared at Charlotte like he'd just noticed she was there. "Wait. No way. You don't mean . . ."

"Yes, he does," Charlotte sighed. "I see Jack Frost too." _Never thought I'd ever say that . . . Watch I'll be saying the same thing for Santa Claus too . . . Nah, no way._

"This. Is. AWESOME!" Jamie cried. "But—that doesn't even make sense! Lottie, you never told me you believed in Jack Frost!"

"Ah, well, I didn't, up until today," Charlotte admitted. "I could just see him."

"It's a weird situation," Jack whispered to Jamie.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "I can _hear_ you too, you know."

"Why's she looking at us like that?" Jamie whispered to Jack. "There's no chance that she could actually hear us, is there?"

"I dunno, man," Jack whispered back. "You've got a _weeeeiiiirdd _sister. I wouldn't be surprised if she's hearing every word we say."

"That would mean trouble," Jamie said.

"Trouble?" Jack struck a heroic pose with his staff in his hand. "You, Jamie Bennett, will never have to worry about trouble as long as I'm a Guardian! It's my job to protect you from evil and darkness . . . or even the worst of the dangers . . . _older sisters!_"

"Older sisters?!" Jamie gasped. "The horror!"

"You two are idiots," Charlotte grumbled. "No wonder you're friends."

"Jack! She's spotted us! _She knows!" _Jamie said.

"Abort mission, abort mission!" Jack cried. "This is _not _a drill! I repeat, _not_ a drill!"

Before Charlotte could blink, Jack and Jamie had taken off in opposite directions of the backyard.

"Oh, _that's _how you wanna play it, huh?" Outraged, Charlotte fished up a snowball and charged. "I'm gonna get you, Jamie!"

Jack and Jamie had met up near the deepest edge of the pool. Charlotte threw the snowball, aiming at Jack, but Jamie noticed and quickly jumped in front of the Winter Spirit. The snowball tapped him in the right shoulder, but Jamie wailed in pain like he'd just been stabbed and crumpled to the ground.

"Jamie!" Jack scooped the boy up in his arms. "Why'd ya have to do it, man? You didn't have to be a hero!"

Jamie coughed. "I see the light! Jack, before I go . . . tell my wife . . . I love her!" He drooped and stuck his tongue out, feigning death.

"_Nooooooo!" _Jack cried at the sky.

"I'm literally _surrounded _by idiots," Charlotte remarked. "Way to make me kill my own brother, Snow Miser!"

Jamie and Jack were holding their guts laughing. "That was too great," Jamie said, wiping away a tear.

"I haven't laughed this hard in ages!" Jack managed.

The two eventually ceased in their laughter. Charlotte waited impatiently, tapping her foot against the ground.

"So, we should probably get back to the matter at hand." Jack rose and lent a hand to Jamie. "Which is figuring out why you can see me . . . when you never really believed in me."

"Do ya think she can see the other Guardians?" Jamie asked.

"Guardians?" Charlotte echoed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You did mention something about being a Guardian."

"Yup." Jack's demeanor seemed to change—he looked more serious, his chest puffed out, and he even looked more mature, too. "I'm one of five Guardians of Childhood. We exist to protect the dreams and lives of the children of the world."

"And let me guess," Charlotte said slowly. "It's through being a 'Guardian' that you met Jamie?"

"Pretty much," Jamie said.

"Why . . . who were you guarding him from?"

Jack glanced around. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a murmur. "Pitch Black."

Jamie noticeably shuddered, and Jack put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Who is Pitch Black?" Charlotte asked, nervous.

"The Nightmare King," Jack replied. "He controls darkness and bad dreams. He had a goal last year to destroy the Guardians and ruin the dreams of the world's children. We stopped him, and to my current knowledge, he's trapped underground."

Charlotte considered that it was just her, but it felt like the temperature had dropped another ten degrees. She scrutinized Jack with her eyes and wondered if it had been his doing due to his emotions.

"So Jamie . . . you helped defeat the person that creates nightmares?" she asked carefully.

"Well, I didn't help a lot," Jamie said sheepishly. "It was mostly Jack and the Guardians."

"Are you kidding? You helped a bunch!" Jack disagreed.

"But I just . . . believed in you," Jamie said. "And got my friends to believe in you."

"And that's all it took: belief. Belief should never be taken for granted, Jamie. Because do you remember what you told the Nightmare King himself?"

Jamie's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "'I believe in you, but I'm just not afraid of you.'"

"Exact-a-mundo. You gotta give yourself more credit, Jamie," Jack said sincerely. "You stood up to the personification of darkness. You looked him straight in the eye and told him you would protect the ones that were supposed to be protecting you. You swallowed fear for the sake of others. That takes a lot. Even I couldn't do that at first. You're a hero, and you've got a bit of Guardian in ya, too."

Jamie grinned toothily, practically shining, and at that moment, Charlotte chose to at least trust mischievous Jack Frost a little.

Because, in all honesty, she couldn't remember the last time her brother had looked so happy.


	3. Never Trust a Girl Scout

**Chapter 3: Never Trust a Girl Scout**

It had been the wackiest snow day of Charlotte's life.

After the snowball fight, she had excused herself into the house while Jamie stayed outside with Jack. Charlotte went straight to the kitchen, took off her coat, mittens, and hat, and made her version of hot chocolate: chocolate milk heated up in the microwave. Curled up around her mug, she went to the screen door that overlooked the backyard and hid behind the display of early Christmas cards. Peeking out, she watched as Jack and Jamie made a snow fort. They were laughing like they'd known each other for years.

_This is crazy, _Charlotte thought weakly. _This can't really . . . he's real . . ._

That snowball he'd used underhanded tactics to throw at her had felt real. She could still feel the coldness emanating off her back. His laughter bounced around in her head like a rubber ball, his face swimming before her eyes.

_What does this mean? _Charlotte reflected. _Snowstorms, blizzards, ice . . . it's all controlled by this one kid. He looks no older than me! How can he have so much power? Where did he get it from?_

Charlotte didn't know anything about the myth of Jack Frost. How much of it was true? None of it, probably—Jack had said himself that people rarely saw him.

_So as it turns out, the legendary Jack Frost is actually a sassy, flirty, annoying teenage boy who has a soft spot for my younger brother. And I can't remember a time when I've believed in his existence, yet I can see him plain as day. Go figure._

Charlotte sighed, her breath fogging up against the glass. This was too much to take in one morning. A thought struck her, something Jamie had said: _Do ya think she can see the other Guardians?_

Others. Who were the others?

Just as Charlotte took a worried sip of hot chocolate (milk), the doorbell rang.

_Oh look, it's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, come to join the party, _she thought sarcastically as she went to the front door. She peered with one eye through the hole in her door and surprise fluttered within her. _A girl scout? What is a girl scout doing around here on a snow day?_

Charlotte opened the door and blinked. "Hello, how can I help you?"

The girl scout was tiny and thin like a elf. Her uniform was a beige dress that reached her knees and a puke-green sash that was being suffocated by badges. Her hair was in a lemon-colored side braid, but her smile didn't reach her eyes, like she was trying too hard to appear happy.

"Good morning, miss!" the girl said, volume too loud for Charlotte's tastes. "My name is Wendy! Are you interested in purchasing some Zephyr's Little Angels Cookies? Our kinds include Regular, Chunky Chocolate Supreme, Pecan Madness, Raisin Smash, and Peanut Butter Flutters."

Charlotte thought Wendy's smile was like an elastic band being stretched too far. Charlotte hid her wince by rubbing her eyes and replied with a smile of her own, "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't have any money and my mom isn't home. Maybe another time?"

Charlotte made a motion to shut the door, but something caught the bottom, and Charlotte was shocked to see that it was Wendy's itty-bitty foot. The girl scout leaned in and grinned darkly, betraying her previous go-lucky attitude. "I'm afraid another time won't work for me, Second Sighted One," Wendy growled. "I'm going to need your attention _now_."

Charlotte backpedalled, smacking into the hallway table, causing the vase full of fake flowers to almost tumble off. "Um—excuse me?"

"Mother has put in a special request for your company," Wendy hissed, inching inside the house.

"M-Mother?" Charlotte stammered. "I have no idea what you're talking about! Get out of my house!"

Suddenly, everything about Wendy seemed to morph and age: she shot up four feet in height, her body became muscled and lean, her braid grew to reach her stomach, and her uniform ripped apart, revealing her new outfit to be a white gown that rippled like it was made of a breeze, matching hoop earrings, and a sheath that hung from a belt. Silver light seemed to float around her, and silver dots of glitter dotted her cheeks. She stood tall, towering over five foot Charlotte.

"Wendy?" Charlotte asked tentatively.

"I am not Wendy," the woman said, and she grinned as power crackled around her. "I am Aura, Sister of the Wind. And you, dear Second-Sighted One, are _mine_."

As Aura pulled a shining dagger from her sheath, Charlotte had enough sense to turn and sprint out of the hall. Just as she was about to enter the kitchen, air began blowing past her at the speed of sound. Charlotte glanced back: a tornado was spiraling out of the tip of the dagger, and Aura was walking toward her slowly, smirking.

"You think you can run?" Aura ducked her head back and laughed. "No one escapes me, silly girl. Now come to me!"

The suction of the tornado forced Charlotte to grab onto the wall and hold on for dear life. Her heart was out of control in her chest, zig-zagging off her ribs like a pinball. She jumped forward and fell into the kitchen. Pain bloomed in her elbow but she frantically got to her feet.

"Second-Sighted One?" Aura sang from the hall. "Where have you gone? Don't even think about hiding, it will do you no good."

"What do you want from me?" Charlotte shouted.

"I just want Mother to be happy," Aura hissed. "And in order for that to be achieved, you must be brought to her!"

"Does the library have a new policy on overdue books or something?" Charlotte muttered. She grabbed her milk from the counter and yelled, "I've been a bad hostess. Allow me to get you a beverage!" as she dumped the milk into the tornado's path. Seconds later, she heard Aura shriek and the sound of liquid dripping to the floor in droplets.

"Little twit! You'll pay!"

The tornado had stopped. Charlotte scrambled to the screen door, desperate to get the woman out of her house. As she took her first step outside, a gust of wind knocked her off her feet and she flew high above the pool cover and started down toward the snow on the other side of the yard.

"Charlotte!"

As she was about to smash into the snow, freezing hands grabbed her and pulled her up, and then she was hovering in the air. Jack Frost's worried face was in front of her nose, eyes as blue and prominent as polished sapphires. "Are you okay?" he asked, holding her bridal style.

"Yeah!" Charlotte managed, breathing hard. "Yeah, with the exception of her . . ."

Just as she said it, Aura floated up to face them. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Jack Frost."

Jack hesitated. "A lady in white I've never met before."

"How delicious," Aura cooed. "The Second-Sighted One is friends Jack Frost! Mother will be soooooo interested."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I wouldn't call us 'friends,'" Charlotte cut in.

"Yeah, we've got our problems," Jack agreed. "I barely know her! And she's punched me!"

"I didn't even know he existed up until a few hours ago and he broke my camera!" piped Charlotte.

"Well, Jack Frost," Aura said. "If you don't care for her so much, then hand her over to me. Mother requires her."

"Ya know, you keep saying that, but you haven't explained yourself in the slightest," Charlotte snapped. "And you," she went on, addressing Jack, "don't you even dare."

Aura inhaled slowly. "Such spirit," she sighed. "No wonder Mother wants you so badly. Your gift will be useful to her."

"If you could just put me on the ground, I'll be sure to strangle this lunatic," Charlotte growled, her glasses sliding down her nose.

"Now ladies," Jack said, smirking slightly. "I'm sure there's a mature, adult way to handle this. Ooooooooor, we could do it my way: KEEP AWAY!"

As he spoke, Jack, with a burst of speed, darted up, still carrying Charlotte. Aura howled with rage and followed, her dagger out and ready.

All Charlotte could see was blurs of blue and white. She circled her arms around Jack's neck as he held her so that she wouldn't fall, clutching her hat and glasses. She was consciously aware that her hair was everywhere, she could only feel coldness everywhere due to the air temperature and Jack's temperature, and she was screaming as Jack loop-de-looped and changed direction to shake off Aura.

"Sheesh, I'm going deaf here, firecracker!" Jack chuckled.

"Jack whatever-your-middle-name-is Frost!" Charlotte shouted. "Why you thought this was a good idea, I will never know!"

"It probably isn't, but it's fun, right?"

"The crazy chick chasing us wants to bring me to her unknown mother for my 'second sight' or whatever. _That's not exactly fun!_"

"Well, I mean, it really depends on how you look at it . . ."

"_Jack—!"_

"Kidding! We'll lose her."

"How?"

"Trust me."

Charlotte scowled. "That's the dumbest excuse ever!"

"It's not an excuse," Jack replied with a grin. "It's a promise!"

"Jack Frost!" Aura thundered from behind them. "Relinquish the Second-Sighted One at once! This matter does not concern you!"

"Gotta catch me first!" Jack answered. As he flew, his white hair flipped and tussled on his head.

"Very well," said Aura. "How about this?"

Aura made the wind around them shift, and Jack and Charlotte spun off course, turning and turning until they stopped and were both dizzy. They were right above Town Square. Charlotte wondered what the scene looked like from below; did she appear to be floating in mid-air?

"Don't involve yourself, Frost," Aura growled. "I came to the Human World for her."

"Well, you're not getting her! And 'her' is right here, thanks very much!" Charlotte exploded. "Now explain yourself before I literally knock the wind out of you!"

"You're good at magical puns," Jack murmured with a raised eyebrow.

"I had a lot of practice this morning," she replied. Jack smirked in response.

"Very well," Aura said, silver eyes blazing. "I do not know the entirety of the situation. But my Mother has beckoned to you, Second-Sighted One. She wants you for your gift of seeing the mystical beings beyond our normal shroud. She finds it holds possible use for the near future."

"Well, you tell your mother that if she wants me sooo bad, then she can come get me and not send her crazy daughter to do it instead!" Charlotte snapped. "Who does she think she is anyway? She can't just _have _me, I'm a person."

"She mentioned something about owning you already," Aura commented maliciously.

"This woman is insane," Charlotte decided, smoothing down her wild brown hair. "Who is your mother? Does she have a name?"

"Mankind knows her by many names," Aura said with a haughty tone, her nose in the air. "But recent times have found a current name for her that even _you _may recognize: Mother Nature."

Both Jack and Charlotte gasped and exchanged a glance.

"I see she rings a bell."

"Just a little bit," Charlotte whispered. _What in the world is going on? First Jack Frost, now Mother Nature?_

"Regardless of your youth," Aura roared, "I will obtain you. Mother always knows best!"

She came at them, dagger raised to strike. Thinking quickly, Charlotte opened her hat up like a baseball glove and caught the blade, holding onto it. As Aura struggled to free it, Charlotte cried, "Your turn, Jack!" and the Winter Spirit blasted Aura in the stomach with his staff, encasing her in ice. The sword slid out from the hat faster than a lighter catching flame, and Charlotte cried out and cradled her hand.

Aura, with her face frozen in a snarling curl, fell from the sky and vanished into the trees below.


	4. Living and Breathing

**Chapter 4: Living and Breathing**

"So it basically looks like Mother Nature's insane."

Jack shrugged at Charlotte's observation, eyes closed. He was perched on top of his staff in the middle of the living room, while Jamie sat in the huge armchair, twiddling his fingers. Charlotte was in the kitchen, running water over her hand.

She winced at the sting that buzzed beneath the skin on her palm. A long cut ran from the end of her fourth finger to the meaty part near her thumb. Holding onto that blade with her hat had been a bad idea, even if it had gotten rid of Aura. Jack had paled (which she hadn't even thought was possible for him) at the sight of blood gushing from her hand and had sped back to the Bennett house while Charlotte had bit back hisses of pain by chomping down on her lip. Her wind was opaque and unreadable as she reflected on the day, ice sprouting in her chest when she remembered the flash of Aura's blade coming straight for her.

She would never look at wind the same way again.

"That's so weird," Jamie said. He was still dressed for the snow day; when Charlotte and Jack had docked in the backyard, Jamie had begun to panic, seeing the blood, but ever since, he'd been calm. Charlotte guessed that if he was freaked out, he was just hiding it. She also guessed that it was because of Jack's presence, either that he calmed the boy or that Jamie didn't want to seem babyish around him.

"Trust me, it was," Jack sighed. Once Jamie had gotten the explanation of what had happened, Jack hadn't said a word, preferring to crouch silently on his staff while Charlotte went to bandage her cut. He was still paler than usual, hands in his hoodie pockets. The atmosphere around him was like water being doused on fire—he was seriously lacking in his normal quips, eyes downcast, smirk nowhere in sight. It was like the normal Jack Frost had been sucked up with a vacuum and this new Jack was whatever had been left.

Charlotte refrained from adding her two cents on the situation, afraid that she'd start cussing in front of Jamie. Finding out Jack Frost existed was hard enough; apparently, the universe had decided to throw in the Sister of Wind and Mother Nature as well. Three supernatural beings in the span of five hours. Charlotte had a feeling the universe was getting a good laugh out of this.

She angrily switched the faucet off. She hoped the universe chocked on it.

As Charlotte got Neosporin, tape, and gauze out of the medicine cabinet, Jack carefully floated off his staff and went to the counter that separated the kitchen and living room. "How's the hand?" he asked quietly.

Charlotte sat across from him and started applying Neosporin. "Better. Or at least, it's not splurting blood like a sprinkler anymore."

"That's good." Jack nodded and his eyes fell upon the counter.

"I see you're low on comments," Charlotte said.

Jack shrugged and gave a tiny laugh. "My brain's just fried."

"Same for me." Jack and her were agreeing on something? What a weird sensation.

"I just . . . I have no idea of what to make of this day." Jack ran a hand through his hair as Jamie appeared at his elbow. "First, there's you . . . and then that Lady of the Windmills . . . and now Mother Nature? Part of me is just like, 'How is this happening all in one day?', ya'know?"

"Ohhhh yeah I do." Charlotte wrapped her hand until it was so tight it was uncomfortable. "Try being the one Her Royal Twister was hell-bent on finding. Did I tell you guys yet that she came to the house disguised as a _girl scout_? Seriously!" she added when Jamie and Jack's faces twisted to ones of disbelief. "She had the uniform and the artificial happiness and everything! The treats she was selling were _Zephyr's Little Angels Cookies._"

"Pfftt! You're kidding!" Jamie said, giggling.

"Someone went all out," Jack said.

"I can't make this stuff up, guys." Charlotte took off her glasses and massaged her eyes. But then they suddenly snapped open, the brown irises glistening with epiphany. "Wait. What was it that she kept calling me? 'Second-Sighted One'? You don't think . . ."

"She could have been referring to how you can see Jack!" Jamie cried.

Charlotte nodded. "But how could she have known?"

"More importantly," Jack added with narrowed eyes, "how does Mother Nature know?"

"Does anyone even _know _anything about Mother Nature?" Charlotte questioned, putting her glasses back on. "Jack, do you?"

The Winter Spirit shook his head. "And it's weird as I think about it. I've been around bringing winter for three hundred years and I've never heard or seen anything concerning Mother Nature or these Sisters. You'd think I would've . . . but not a thing. I wasn't even sure of their existence till today."

"These ladies are pretty low-key," Charlotte murmured.

"We've gotta get some info on them," Jamie proposed fiercely, huddling his coat closer. "Brrrr! Is that you making it so cold in here, Jack?"

"Oh man, it might be! Sorry." Jack knocked the end of his staff on the tiled floor and some of the chill seemed to ebb out of the room. "Temp can change with my moods," he admitted to Charlotte. "When I'm deep in thought, I don't even notice because I rarely do it on purpose. My outbursts are bad, man. You should've seen me during the Easter of '68. _That _storm was one of my personal bests, ask anyone."

"Especially Bunnymund," Jamie added with a spark in his eye.

"Bunnymund?" asked Charlotte. "Who's . . . ?"

Jack and Jamie's gazes went to each other so quickly, it was like magnet to metal. "Well, Lottie," Jamie started timidly. "It's a funny story, now that I really think about it . . ."

"That doesn't reassure me of anything except that whatever you two are silently talking about is going to destroy my perception of reality," Charlotte groaned.

"It's really not that bad!" Jamie attempted make a face that would vanquish any unease in Charlotte, but it just came out glitchy. "I mean, I was shocked at first too, but it really got quite awesome."

"I'm reluctantly listening . . . wait!" Charlotte got up and retrieved a tiny rubber figure from the medicine cabinet. Clenching it in her left hand, she sat back down. "You two are lucky my right hand is the injured one." She took a deep breath. "Go ahead."

"You're left handed?" Jack sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I get it from my, um, dad."

"Anyway," Jamie cut in hurriedly. "So, ya know those Guardians Jack and I mentioned earlier?"

"I think so. You protect the children of the world."

"Uh . . . well, we're pretty famous, so you won't be confused as to who the others are," Jack tried with a sheepish thumbs-up.

"Well, that just makes this so much easier to take in," Charlotte muttered. "Whatever 'this' is."

"Like I said, I'm a Guardian. I'm one of five: the Guardian of Fun. My fellow Guardians stand for the Wonder, Dreams, Memories, and Hope of the kids. They're armed with powers and weapons, and last year, we defeated Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, because he threatened kids everywhere and the things we stood for. These Guardians include—"

"Santa!" Jamie cried, hopping up and down on his tiptoes. "_The _Santa Claus!"

"And the Easter Kang—er, Bunny."

"And the Sandman!"

"And the Tooth Fairy."

"They exist, Lottie! And I've met all of them! I've _hung out _with them!"

"Jamie, you're gonna blow a circuit," Jack chuckled.

"Sorry. I've just wanted to tell someone for _ages_ now. Um, but yeah," Jamie said, cowering back when he looked at Charlotte, who was squeezing the tiny rubber man repeatedly with her head hung low enough for her face to be hidden behind a curtain of corkscrew-curly chocolate hair. "They're real. And I've met them. Numerous times. Oh, and so has Sophie."

"Sophie," Charlotte rasped. "Our three year old sister has met Santa, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny?"

"Just a little." Jamie cringed. "Lottie, are you okay?"

_Pop! _The head of the rubber man landed in Jack's lap. He and Jamie stared at Charlotte wide-eyed as she breathed, "Give me a minute." She rose and slid open the screen door. Stepping outside, she absorbed the winter air, the goose bumps on her arms, the white and blue in her vision. The cold zapped her awake, especially since she wasn't wearing a coat, but the information digging around in her brain was as heavy as anchors.

_Santa'srealtheEasterBunny'srealtheToothFairy'srealtheSandman'sreal . . . _

If Jamie had told her any other day than today, she would have found his confession funny. _Good one, Jamie. _But if Jack Frost and Mother Nature were real, then heck yes, these Guardians were real. These were things she couldn't imagine. Definitely not the emotions she'd felt that day—fear, confusion, complete and utter shock. She was a smart kid, but not that smart. Never that smart.

In all raw honesty, she was kind of giddy, deep down in her bewilderment. The heroes of her childhood were alive and real. Somewhere in the galaxy, they were breathing, walking, talking, _living. _The eggs she found every Easter morning weren't from the township of Burgess for the kids. The presents under the Bennett Christmas tree every year weren't from blood relatives. The baby teeth that vanished in the night of when they'd fallen out weren't taken by her mom, and the quarters that were left behind weren't from her, either. Was it really because of one mythological being that every person on Earth fell asleep every night?

Charlotte was in the snow, on her knees, gaze boring into the ground, like she was trying to activate heat vision. Snowflakes were skydiving from the clouds softly, like they were performing a ballet for her. Was that Jack's doing? She wanted the water in the snow to seep into her bloodstream—maybe then her veins would freeze and things could really slow down and she could have time to process all of this. But did she even have the mental prowess to do so?

The coldness of the snow made her hand feel better. It reminded her of Jack Frost, who was sitting inside her house right now, probably talking about her with her brother. Upstairs, her baby sister Sophie was asleep. At the local bank in Burgess, her mother was working. Her dad was somewhere in Japan with his new girlfriend, Satoko. Serena was probably still asleep at her house.

_This is crazy . . . but there's no going back now._

Charlotte shakily managed to her feet. The reality was that she'd been spoon-fed lies for a while now. The myths of her childhood, of everyone's childhood, were real. The faster she got used to that fact, the faster she would get answers to something that was obviously threatening her life. Mother Nature didn't sound like a pushover—would she send more maniacs? If she did, unless she asked Jack as a personal favor, it would most likely not be a snow day. Could other people get hurt?

She couldn't let that happen. Not on her watch.

_No going back._

Charlotte went back inside. She could practically hear a pin drop. Dusting snowflakes off her glasses, she peeked into the living room, where Jack and Jamie were sitting on the floor across from each other. They detected her and watched as she sat down before them.

"Lottie . . . ?" Jamie whispered. Jack looked at her with a strange expression, like he was concerned that she might implode any second.

"I'm okay." Charlotte unveiled a breath she hadn't known she was holding in. "I believe you, obviously. I just had a moment, forgive me." Her eyes rose and met Jack Frost's icy ones.

"I want to meet them. The Guardians."

Jack considered with a jutting lip. "That can probably be arranged."

"And it's not just because they're . . . them," Charlotte babbled. "I'm thinking that since they've been around for so long, maybe they know more about Mother Nature, and can help us. I mean, we obviously don't know anything, and I'm scared that the cow may send the Duchess of Drafts again, or someone even worse. Also, they may know why Mother Nature wants me in the first place, especially with this 'Second-Sighted' business."

"All very true," Jack agreed. "Alright, I'll go talk to them. They may already know, though: whenever someone messes with the Human World, it'll show up on this huge globe North has."

"North?"

"Santa."

"Ah."

"There's no way they'll say no," Jamie said, pointing to the ceiling with confidence. "Jack and them are the Guardians! It's their job to protect us."

"I was pretty much thinking the same thing," Jack said with a crooked grin. "They all worry like mothers when it comes to the kids. _Especially_ Tooth. I swear, she channels the spirit a real mom when she fusses over something. They'll love to help."

"Okay," Charlotte responded. "Okay. This is good. We actually have a splinter of a plan."

"That's probably because you're here, Lottie," Jamie said. "Jack and I suck at planning things."

Charlotte frowned. "Jamie, since when do you use language like that? I've never heard you say 'suck' before." She glared at Jack. "That better not be your work."

"What? Me?" The normal Jack had returned: bright eyes, cocky smirk, suggesting eyebrows, false innocence. It was uncanny how much he and Jamie were alike sometimes. "If I had a go at him, his vocabulary would be _much_ worse. Alright, squirt, lesson 2: my personal favorite, rhymes with luck—"

"You teach him that word, and I swear, Frost, not even your powers will protect you from my wrath."

"You really shouldn't swear, Charlotte."

"Um, pot calling the kettle black?"

"Okay," Jack whispered, gesturing a giggling Jamie over into a huddle between the two of them. "Four lettered word, and it's really fun to say. You're my mini-me, you'll totally agree. Like I said, rhymes with luck—"

"Duck!" Jamie cried.

Jack could only turn to Charlotte as she smacked him right in the face with a pillow, making him fall over.

"Pillow fight!" Charlotte declared.

Jamie handed the stars-seeing Jack a pillow from the couch and charged at Charlotte. "Two against one?" Charlotte asked, forcing back Jamie. "This doesn't seem totally fair . . . for you guys!"

They fought as their voices echoed around the house, snorts and gasps and squeals of laughter. Charlotte was outnumbered, but she was winning, taking out her two enemies at the same time. As she smiled radiantly, it was revealed that the normal Charlotte had returned, too.


	5. Soon

**Chapter 5: Soon**

By two in the afternoon, Jack was ready to go to the North Pole. He'd promised Charlotte and Jamie that he'd talk to the other Guardians first and then return to Burgess with a reply. He'd suggested that they could come along, but Charlotte declined regretfully, saying that Mrs. Bennett would flip a table if she came home and they weren't there, especially with Sophie to think about. Jamie had wanted to come though, which wasn't a surprise in the slightest.

Before leaving, he had ruffled Jamie's hair and promised to return soon. He had glanced at Charlotte and awarded her with his signature playful grin, but she had shaken her head with a tiny smile and shown him the door.

"Wait," she had said before he had a foot outside.

Jack held his staff with two hands. "Ah, I gotcha. Goodbye kiss?" He puckered his lips out and shut his eyes.

"Pfft. Do you see any mistletoe, Snow Miser?" Charlotte put a finger to his lips, hand curling from the icy touch of his skin. "I just wanted to say . . . thank you."

"For what?" Jack had asked, hand in his pocket.

"Well . . . for a lot of things." The color of Charlotte's eyes was like melting caramel. "For helping out when Aura had burst in. Especially the catching part, I wouldn't have appreciated another broken leg."

"Well, I had to make up for the last one somehow," he answered, earning a chuckle.

"Also, for your friendship with Jamie. I don't know if he told you, but our dog Abby died last July, and it tore him apart. With that, and our parents' divorce still fresh, I got pretty worried about him. But the thing that got him through . . ." Charlotte's gaze become gentle and understanding. "He talked about you and the Guardians all the time, and drew pictures of you guys. There's a mountain of them in his closet. I kinda just went along with it at first, but now I get it. And I thank you for it. You mean a lot to him, and you're a source of strength."

Jack's jaw dropped like a glove compartment being opened. "Abby died?" How had he not noticed the dog's absence? She'd given Bunnymund the scare of a lifetime last year, and it had been one of the greatest things ever! "Aw man—I'm sorry, Charlotte. I had no idea. And I didn't—with the divorce thing, I mean, I knew . . ." He faltered and looked at her. "He draws us?"

"At least once a day," Charlotte said, hands shuffling up her arms to keep warm. She was half-outside, half-inside, and at least a foot away from the human icicle himself. "I can't really comment on how accurate he is."

"Wow." Jack eyed the living room, where Jamie was playing on his Nintendo DS. "He's . . . he's something, that kid. I mean, I knew he liked me and all, but source of strength? That's crazy."

Charlotte shrugged. "I love him to death. Your friendship helps keep him going, and I'm grateful for that . . . even if you _are _annoying."

Jack laughed. "Jack Frost, at your service."

"Unfortunately."

Jack stepped outside and plucked a tiny purple pearl out of a sack at his belt. He crushed it in his fist and tossed the powder left behind into the air, and it swirled together to make a magic portal. North had given Jack the special pearls as a quicker way to the North Pole in case the distance was too great for him. He glanced back at Charlotte, who was staring at the portal with saucer-big eyes.

Jack winked. "Be back soon!" Then he jumped into the portal, leaving the Bennett household in his dust.

Despite being more convenient, the portal-mode of transportation was a thorn in Jack's side. For a few moments, he was being kicked everywhere and he couldn't see a thing, and then he fumbled onto the ground outside the Ice Castle at the very top of the mountain. "He can make a portal to transport me to the other side of the world," Jack muttered, "but he can't make it transport me _inside_?"

The Ice Castle was enormous, buried in snow with ten-foot icicles dripping down from the bottom of the tiny towers that popped up, the fortress the shade of burnt gold. The misty sky was so close, he could practically scoop out a chunk of cloud like ice cream. Jack got up and tried to not look hurried as he approached the two Yetis that stood guard over the entrance to the Ice Castle. "Heya, fellas," he said pleasantly. "It cool if I go in? I got some stuff to talk to North about. Ya know, um . . . Guardian stuff."

The Yetis moved aside and opened the door for him. The fact that he was just walking in was weird to Jack—he'd spent a large part of his immortal life trying to break into the Ice Castle. Though walking in was much better than being shoved into a sack, and _much _better than being thrown out.

Jack went down a long corridor before emerging into the overlooking balcony of the Toy Room. The elephant-sized fireplace made the room toasty, and Jack chewed back a scowl. He wasn't the biggest fan of warm climates, and it could be dangerous to his health if he got too hot. But this probably wouldn't take long—but were the other Guardians even here?

_Shoot. I didn't think that part through. _

"North?" Jack called. Old Saint Nick had to be around here somewhere. It was dangerously close to Christmas though, so he was probably busy. But the situation with Charlotte was pretty serious—who knows what would have happened if he hadn't been there today.

_Was it me that beckoned that crazy lady to the Bennett house though? Did she sense me? _No, probably not. She was completely taken off guard when she saw him. She had been there for Charlotte and Charlotte alone. _Which is something that's gonna worry him and the other Guardians. They've gotta know . . . for Charlotte's sake._

"North? Ya in here?" Jack tried again. He rounded across the balcony, where he could hear the elves tinkering away at the Christmas toys. He could also hear their bickering, babbling, fighting, and the slam of one punching another. _Violent little things._

Jack then found himself in front of the Globe. It was majestic, reaching the ceiling and spinning to document the continents of the world, along with the wellbeing of its children. There was a little blue arrow above somewhere in the United States, and he had a sinking feeling it was Burgess.

"Jack? Jack!"

At the mention of his name, Jack swiveled to discover a large man with a white beard, black eyebrows, and a red sweater and overalls. There was a jolly twinkle in his eyes and dimples, and Jack had detected the Russian accent when the man had spoken.

"North! Hey!"

"Vat brings you to the North Pole?" North asked, shaking Jack's hand.

"Sorry I didn't have time to ask ahead of time," Jack apologized. "It's been a busy day."

"It's perfectly fine, my boy! You're velcome here vhenever you vish." North led Jack to a small table, already filled with Christmas cookies, milk, and hot cocoa. "I'm always prepared for visitors," North explained with a wink. "So, vat's up?"

"Before I fully explain, I gotta ask about that blue marking on the Globe," Jack said, taking a seat. "What's up with that?"

"Ah yes. Strangest thing." North sipped his cocoa. "Earlier this morning, the Globe picked up a reading in, ironically enough, Burgess. I was about to contact the Guardians ven as soon as I read it, it disappeared. I was going to call all of you over tonight to discuss it. Veren't you there today, visiting Jamie?"

"I was," Jack replied. "And I did find something, and it was definitely the thing the Globe read."

"Vat happened?" North demanded.

"Well," Jack started, eying a cookie that looked like it had a fist-mark in it with doubt. "It all began with a photograph . . ."

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

The Guardians were at the North Pole minutes within North sending out the alert. Sandy was first, and Jack was overjoyed to see him. He was still as glittery and golden as ever, body a round shape, eyes like two suns, and imagination still as quick and sharp as his whips. Tooth was next, and Jack was just as happy to see her. Half-human and half-hummingbird, she was still fussy, bubbly, and optimistic. Bunnymund was last, and even though he didn't express his excitement to see Jack, Jack knew they were friends . . . kind of.

Once all gathered together, Jack had a warm feeling inside that didn't make him uncomfortable or faint. He was a part of this family, and he cared for every single member, and they cared for him. He knew it was a feeling he probably felt when he was human, but it was even better as an immortal.

"So what're we doing here, North?" Bunnymund asked.

"I believe I'll allow Jack to offer an explanation," North said, gesturing to the Winter Spirit.

"Oh no," Bunnymund groaned, pinching the space between his eyes. "What've ya done now, Frostbite?"

"I didn't do anything," Jack said quickly. "It's someone I met."

"Ooooh," Tooth gushed. "A lady friend?"

"Well, technically—"

"Aww, Jack!"

"Tooth!" Jack said, chuckling. "It's Jamie's older sister."

"Older?" Bunnymund questioned. "I thought it was just lil' Sophie."

"I did, too, until this morning," Jack said. "I was in Burgess creating a snow day for the kids, and I was searching for Jamie, because I had promised to hang out with him today. But get this: I accidentally knocked over his sister when flying by, and I apologized, thinking she wouldn't be able to hear or see me, but she can! She can see, hear, and talk to me, just like Jamie."

"Well, that's not a big deal," Bunnymund said. "Does she believe?"

"She didn't believe until she knew who I was," Jack went on, animated. "But she hasn't believed before that. And she could still see me!"

Bunnymund and Tooth gasped. Sandy's eyes widened in surprise.

"My reaction exactly!" North said.

"Mate, I've never heard of that," Bunnymund remarked. "Didn't think it was possible."

"I've heard a couple things about that," Tooth said. "I thought being able to do that died off forever ago though. I always thought it was . . . well, a myth."

"The irony," Bunnymund muttered.

"And that's not all, guys," Jack continued. "So I was with her and Jamie for most of the morning, playing with Jamie in the backyard, when out of nowhere this crazy lady broke into their house. She was looking for Jamie's sister, and she called herself the Sister of the Wind."

A shockwave of silence hit the room. Tooth's expression was dreadfully worried, while Sandy blinked numerous times and Bunnymund accidentally bit off half of the toothpick he'd been chewing on.

"So you were right when you said they'd know who she was," Jack whispered to North.

"She's one of the Elemental Sisters," Tooth spoke. "Aura's her name. There are three others, Sisters of Water, Earth, and Fire."

"Jack, what did you say her reason for looking for Jamie's sister?" North asked.

Jack swallowed. "Mother Nature wants her."

"Oh, not that witch," Bunnymund complained.

"The Sister of the Wind kept on calling Jamie's sister the 'Second-Sighted One,'" Jack added.

"Oh!" Tooth gasped. "There we go, that makes sense. That's the ability I could think of. It was on the tip of my tongue. Second-Sightedness is an extremely rare gift that a human can have. But like I said, I thought it went extinct centuries ago."

"Looks like it's making a reappearance in this girl," Bunnymund said.

"This is vat I cannot understand though," North said. "Vat vould Mother Nature vant with a Second-Sighted child?"

No one spoke. Their breath could barely even be heard.

"Soooo," Tooth said, hands behind her back, grinning. "What's her name?"

Jack blinked, like he'd just returned from another world. "Charlotte. Charlotte Bennett."

"Oh, that's such a cute name," Tooth gushed again, hands together next to her cheek. "What's she like? What does she look like?"

"Hmm, well," Jack said, staff on his shoulders. He smiled, expression sunny. "She's a little shorter than me. Long, curly brown hair. Brown eyes. Freckles. She wears glasses, too. She likes photography, she's left-handed. She's funny and sharp. I call her firecracker, 'cause that's like _her_. Witty, genuine, fiery." He looked at Bunnymund and smirked. "You'd love her, Kangaroo. She yells at me all the time."

"I don't blame her. You bring trouble with you wherever you step," Bunnymund chuckled.

"She calls me names, too. You'd be impressed."

"Ooh, like what?"

"She called me 'Frost' once, and then 'Mr. Snowflake' once, and the most popular one is 'Snow Miser.'"

Bunnymund guffawed loudly, throwing his head back. "That's beautiful, mate!" he choked, wiping away a tear. "I like her already. She and I would get along very well."

"Speaking of which . . ." Jack turned to North. "I told her and Jamie I'd tell them whether or not you'd be willing to help out with her problem tonight."

"Vell, of course ve're villing!" North bellowed. "How can ve say no? It's our job to help and defend her. Mother Nature cannot simply _extract _her from the Human Vorld."

"Are there, like, laws?" Jack asked.

"Not technically," North replied, biting into a cookie. "But it is really just not done. Especially since, most of the time, the children do not see us. But ve should talk to this Charlotte immediately!"

"Yeah, she wanted to meet you guys," Jack stated. "And Jamie just wanted to see you all again."

"Vhy, ve should go right now! It's nighttime in Burgess now," North said excitedly. "Anyone up for it?"

Sandy had some of his golden sand appear over his head and make the shape of a thumbs-up. Tooth agreed and mentally patched to her Mini-Fairies (a skill she'd been working on since the incident with Pitch) to take care of the tooth collecting for tonight. Bunnymund nodded with a thin smirk on his face. Jack knew he was eager to meet someone who shared a hobby of yelling at him with him.

"Are ve taking the sleigh?" North asked.

"Yes!" Jack cried.

"NO!" Bunnymund objected at the same time.

A moment of silence.

"Ve should probably go together though," North added.

"Where in the world are ya gonna land it?" Bunnymund demanded.

"Vhere I alvays land it: the roof!" North said with confidence.

"Crikey," Bunnymund mumbled.

"Here, okay, compromise: we use one of the pearl thingies you gave me," Jack suggested, pulling at his collar. The warmth of the room was finally getting to him, and he was desperate to get to cold, snow-covered Burgess.

North and Bunny glanced at each other. "That works," Bunnymund said.

North sighed, shoulders sagging as he tugged on his coat. "But everyone loves the sleigh," he whined under his breath.

As Jack smashed another pearl, he couldn't help but smirk.

_Get ready, Charlotte. You're about to have the night of your life! _

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

Miles away, in a kingdom hidden by clouds and vines, a woman watched through an enchanted mirror as a young girl slept soundly in her bed. The room she stood in was dark, but she was surrounded by plants, and the air smelled of the forest and freshly chopped wood.

"Mother," rang a shrill voice behind her. "We have located Aura. She was encased in ice in the Second-Sighted One's town."

The woman sneered into the mirror. "Jack Frost. I should have known, what with the Guardians and their silly concern. What is her condition?"

"She is awake, Mother. And furious."

"Rightfully so." She turned, cold eyes glowing. "How do you feel about running an errand for me?"

"Is it for this girl you are interested in?"

"Partly. I want you to go and get for me the Nightmare King."

"Pitch Black?" The shrill voiced figure shivered. "Why, Mother? He is a deceitful, dark creature. And the Guardians locked him away a year ago."

"You, of course, possess the power to release him, do you not?"

"I do, but—"

"But nothing," the woman snapped, voice sweet. "I require him. He is necessary to the plan."

"Very well. Am I going now?"

"Yes. It is night where he is locked away—he is strongest now."

"Alright, Mother. I will return with the Nightmare King in a few days."

The woman's gaze fell back upon the mirror. Her face twisted as the girl slept, chest rising with tranquil breaths, thumb in her mouth. "You only do that when you have a lot on your mind," she murmured to the mirror. "What's concerning you? And what can I do to assist it? No," she suddenly shrieked, stumbling away. "I do not think that way anymore. No—no, but . . ." Agony contorting her face, her index finger began to glow green, and she pushed on the glass of the mirror, using magic to pick up a packet that sat on the desk next to the girl's bed. Tears streaming down her face, the woman dragged the packet to float silently over the girl's face, and then brought it down on her forehead, smacking her harshly. The girl's eyes shot open in alarm, brown irises of youth and innocence, and sat up, holding the area and wincing.

"I'm sorry," the woman whispered in sorrow. She waved a hand over the mirror to make the image of the girl ripple away, and she walked away from it, heart burning. She clenched her hand into a fist. "But you will be mine." She glanced back at the mirror, power trickling down the outline of her body. "Soon . . . yes . . . very soon indeed."


	6. Meeting the Guardians

**Chapter 6: Meeting the Guardians**

Slowly but surely, night inched its way into Burgess, transforming the sky into a black quilt with polka dotted stars and a creamy crescent moon woven into the seams. The temperature dropped even further, like the substances and elements in the air had ice particles programmed into their chemical compositions. Charlotte had never been so happy that it was Friday—after the day she'd had, all she wanted was sleep.

Jamie had begged their mom to let him stay up later than his 9:30 bedtime, secretly wanting to stay up to see if Jack came back, but she had refused, claiming snow days weren't an excuse to throw sleeping patterns out of whack. When she finally retired to bed at 11:45, he pretended to be asleep, and then snuck over to Charlotte's room. She had sent him back, observing the drooping of his eyes and his many yawns, and promised to wake him up if Jack returned.

Charlotte collapsed into bed at midnight on the dot, dressed in a long-sleeved red pajama shirt and soft white pajama pants with teddy bears on them. Her hair was in a high ponytail, curls brushing against the back of her neck, and she wore her retainers on her teeth—the normal nightly ritual of wearing plastic so that braces weren't a total mistake. Her glasses sat on the desk next to her bed.

Charlotte had passed out quickly, and prayed the exciting day would be enough to keep the nightmares away.

Only her mother, father, and Jamie knew about the nightmares that had been plaguing her since she was little. Her mother blamed it on her imagination, but it was the same thing at least once a week.

The nightmare always kicked off with the sliver of lightning, and then the rain that poured down mercilessly like never-ending tears. The headlights of a car, the green of a forest, and then the feeling of rising into what she thought resembled Heaven. And then orbs of black that sent terror and pain through her like she was wired and the fear was electricity. She used to wake up screeching, but as she got older, Charlotte learned to deal with the nightmares on her own to spare her mother, Jamie, and Sophie.

Her mother had the theory that the nightmare was just a combination of different scary memories from her childhood in the form of a reoccurring dream. "When you were two, you crawled onto the tracks of a toy train that chugged around the Christmas tree. That could explain the headlights!" Charlotte had never known what to believe, but she held favor to the nights when she didn't wake up in a cold sweat.

But tonight, it wasn't a nightmare that had her bolting awake. It was something smacking her in the face.

Charlotte batted her eyes as she was brought forth into reality and felt around for the culprit of the assault—her hand touched paper, and bafflement was reflected on the thin line that her lips made. "My Pre-Calc packet?" she murmured sleepily, stroking the spot on her forehead where she'd been hit and sitting up.

She had been hit, hadn't she? That's sure what it felt like. But how . . .?

Charlotte couldn't even try to put the pieces together. At three in the morning, nothing made sense and everything was twice as funny. She couldn't try to figure it out now.

Sighing, Charlotte put the packet back on her desk and laid back down, sinking into the comforter and pillows like M&Ms into a melting sundae. It was amazing to her how inside her room, she was experiencing a normal person's bliss of sleep, comfort, and warmth, but outside, somewhere in the world, apparent Mother Nature was plotting ways to kidnap her, and Jack Frost was bringing her case to the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus.

A feeling of jarring realization blossomed inside of her, like a drum was beating, and the notes were her apprehension. How was this going to turn out? Would she come out alright? Alive?

_Yes I will, _Charlotte thought fiercely, burying her face under her pillows. The coolness of the other side calmed her. _I've made it through tough stuff before. Mom and Dad's divorce, breaking my leg, Abby dying, the nightmares—I'll make it out of this in one piece, too._

Comfortable, Charlotte tried to drift off to dreamland again, only to be disturbed by the mini-hurricane that erupted at the end of her bed. She sat up, bangs disheveled, and her heart began to pound. _Oh no, what if it's Aura again? Or another one of those stupid Sisters? _Charlotte grabbed her glasses and scrambled from her bed, pulling open her closet doors. She grasped around until she found her old softball bat, metal and adorned with scratches, and gripped it as tight as she could as figures emerged from the circular storm in front of her.

_I am NOT being taken tonight!_

Charlotte raised the bat above her head and prepared to swing.

"She should probably be in—CHARLOTTE!"

Something that felt like a pillar of dry ice cubes slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. She struggled to fend off the attacker, kicking and punching like a madwoman, but his voice captured her and held her due to its familiarity. "Charlotte—ow, ow, OW, Charlotte! Stop, it's me, Jack!"

Charlotte froze, squinting into the darkness. "Jack?" she whispered. "Here, get off me—lemme turn on the light. . . ."

"Crikey, that sounded rough."

"Jack, are you okay?"

"Have ve arrived? Is this her room?"

Charlotte tried not to be spooked by the three other voices in her room. She felt along, searching for her lightswitch, but then the room was lit up by a soft golden glow. Charlotte watched as a plump little man that looked like a personification of the sun intricately wiggled his fingers to make the golden sand at his fingertips act as a light source. The light revealed the other figures in the room, and Charlotte's breath caught in her throat in awe.

Other than the golden man, Jack had brought three other figures with him. One was a box of a man, with a white beard, red suit, and jolly, adventurous face. Swords hung at his belt, and his hands, peeking out from under his thick royal coat, were huge and strong. The second figure hovered in the air with pink and green wings that she could only see every few seconds due to how fast they were fluttering. She was beautiful, the bottom half of her face, body shape, hands, and feet human, but she was coated in vibrant yellow, teal, indigo, and violet feathers from her ankles to the gold feather on top of her head. The third figure was a six feet tall rabbit with gray, white, and silver fur. His ears were floppy, his wrists were covered with gold armlets, and a sash across his body held two boomerangs. His arms were folded across his chest, his spring green eyes curious but careful.

_The Guardians. _

"Ohhhh my," Charlotte said weakly. "You brought them _here_?"

Jack, looking lost, cleared his throat. "Charlotte Bennett, I'd like to introduce you to the Guardians of Childhood."

Charlotte pushed her bangs up, eyes bugging and mouth agape. "Ummm . . ." Her throat was the Sahara Desert. "Hi."

The Guardians exchanged glances.

"Hiya," the feathered woman said, smiling sweetly. "Charlotte, is it?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

The woman flew over to her and took her hand. Her touch was smooth like a shell from the ocean. "I'm Tooth," she said. "I'm the Guardian of Memories. You probably know me for my title, the Tooth Fairy."

"Yeah," Charlotte wheezed. _Get a grip, Charlotte! _"Yes, I do know you as the Tooth Fairy, yes. It's, um, an honor to meet you."

Tooth nodded encouragingly. "Who's next?" she asked the Guardians.

The large red-suited man raised a tentative hand. "Miss Charlotte," he said, a thick Russian accent spicing his voice. "I am North, the Guardian of Vonder. You may also know me as Santa Claus, Chris Kringle, Old Saint Nick . . . vhichever you prefer."

"I'm Bunnymund," the rabbit declared, Australian accent prominent. "Guardian o' Hope. Also known as the Easter Bunny. And let me just say, I've heard great things about you. It true you call Frostbite over there Snow Miser?"

Charlotte cracked a grin through her awe. "It's true. He never told me about Frostbite though—I love that one. Did he tell you I punched him too?"

"No, he did not," Bunnymund said excitedly. "Didja?"

"Right in the shoulder."

"It was awesome," Jack grumbled.

"Aw, shelia, I like ya already," Bunnymund said sincerely. "We've gotta collaborate sometime!"

Charlotte could feel the shock draining out of her. The Guardians seemed just as amazing as Jamie made them sound! "I'll have my people call your people."

"Is this _actually _happening?" Jack moaned.

Bunnymund shrugged, mouth twitching in a smirk. "Hey, you led us here."

"Change of subject," Jack muttered. He gestured to the tiny gold man. "This is Sandy, Guardian of Dreams, also known as the Sandman. He doesn't talk, so that's why I'm doing his intro for him."

Sandy waved and gave a friendly smile. Some gold sand appeared before Charlotte and made the form of a hand out to shake. Charlotte experimentally put her hand to it—the sensation was astounding, like getting acquainted with an hourglass. She shook hands with it, and then it fell apart into sand again.

"And last but not least," Jack said.

"A tad debatable," Bunnymund muttered.

Jack pretended not to hear him. "I, my dear Charlotte, am Jack Frost, Guardian of Fun. You may also know me as Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter."

"Or the Spirit of Aggravation," Charlotte supplied, earning a laugh from the Guardians (mostly a howl of laughter from Bunnymund).

"Attractive," Jack teased dryly.

"So," Charlotte said, looking around at the figures of fantasy gathered around her bed. "You're . . . the Guardians."

"Yes, ma'am," North confirmed proudly. "And ve are here to help you."

"I really appreciate it," Charlotte said, genuine. She climbed back into bed, choosing her words carefully. "Today was absolutely crazy—just ask Jack—and I'm glad you guys are here."

"We're glad to _be _here," Tooth said. "It's our job!"

Guilt rooted itself in Charlotte. She had stopped believing in figures like the Tooth Fairy and Santa years ago. With puberty arrived a sense of realism and common sense—magic wasn't real, it was just make-believe story time stuff parents told their children to get them to sleep, and the children, stubborn as stains, had refused to let go of it until the real darkness of the world bombed their imaginations into thinking they were _just _imagination. But the Guardians' attendance to a meeting that would probably determine whether or not she survived the weekend meant so much—this time twenty-four hours ago, she was more worried about the Pre-Calc test she would have had 4th period today than the existence of the Easter Bunny. But during the time when she would have had Pre-Calc today, she was on the run from someone trying to kill her. _Priorities, Charlotte. _

"Now," North said, clasping his hands together, sending a clapping sound through the walls. "Please, tell us of your experience today."

And so Charlotte did—starting from when she tried to be Jack Frost's paparazzi and ending when Jack left her house for the North Pole. Telling the story of the day was a strange experience. It didn't sound like she was explaining her life—it sounded like she was detailing to a group of friends a crazy story she had heard on the internet, or a book she had just finished. Her throat hurt from speaking so much when she was done.

"And it's because of Aura that you got injured?" Tooth asked.

"Injured? Oh." Charlotte placed her free hand on her bandaged one. "Technically, yes, but it's not a big deal. It could have been way worse."

"Vhich is incentive enough to find Mother Nature and put a stop to this," North declared with passion.

"Does anyone even know where she is?" Bunnymund asked. "I've never known."

North shook his head, his beard swaying across his chest. "Mother Nature has alvays been very secretive and ominous. She dvells vith the Elemental Sisters and controls the plants, storms, and structure of the Human Vorld."

Sandy used his golden sand to create the image of a building, and then more sand to make a fist. The fist slammed into the building, smashing it into glittering debris.

"Translation?" Charlotte asked, unsure.

"She's powerful," Jack said bluntly. "Very very powerful."

_Hooray, _Charlotte thought.

"Vell," North sighed, voice heavy with decision. "Ve cannot go running off in search of her blindly. Ve all have duties of our ovn to vorry about."

"I'm, unfortunately, stuck when it comes to the night shifts," Tooth confessed, wringing her hands. "The teeth of the world need me. My Mini-Fairies are having a hard time without me tonight."

"And I need to be at the Ice Castle," North said. "Vith Christmas so close."

"Sandy seems to be a little tied up as well," Bunnymund observed as the Sandman send golden threads out Charlotte's window, face tensed in concentration.

"Are they . . . dreams?" Charlotte asked, curious.

Sandy's eyes popped open and he nodded and smiled at her.

Charlotte's insides felt like they were being inflated with lead. The Guardians were so busy with their holidays and jobs—and here she was, asking to meet them, when they had duties to attend to. Not to mention she was jeopardizing the dreams and hopes of children all around the world. That was a depth she was sure no other kid had sunk to before. _Way to go._

"Um, well, look," she spluttered. "You guys seem really busy. Since we still seem to be in the early stages of this possible problem, how about we just . . . wait? If something else happens, I can just contact you all and we can work from there." _If I'm still alive, _she silently added.

"Oh, we couldn't ask you to do that!" Tooth said, ruffling her feathers. "You asked for help, and it's our job to protect you! We don't have the right to leave you defenseless."

"And I don't have the right to force you all to ignore your callings for something that, who knows? Could maybe be nothing," Charlotte said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I know I will!"

The Guardians looked at each other, contemplating her offer. "Alright," North said. "Ve vill leave you . . . and Jack and Bunnymund can vatch over you vhile I do research on Mother Nature. How does that sound?"

"Ace!" Bunnymund said. "I don't know how I feel about you, Frostbite, but I'm on the job."

"Heck yeah!" Jack said.

Charlotte nodded at North. "That works. I just . . . I dunno, I just don't want to be a bother or anything, if that makes sense." His kind eyes made her feel insecure, and she was spellbound, because she was _rarely _insecure.

"Don't be ridiculous!" North bellowed with a smile. "You are very considerate to our personal situations, and ve thank you for it. But regardless, ve are the Guardians, and it is our job to protect the children of the vorld. That includes you."

And in that moment, Charlotte felt very small, like she was six again, sitting on a fake Santa's lap, asking for her first toy camera. "Thank you. Thank you very much . . . North. Is it okay if I call you that?"

"Perfectly fine, dear. Now, Bunnymund, Jack, what do you propose we do about watching over her?"

"Well, I have to go to the Warren at least once a day to check up on the eggs," Bunnymund said. "But I can do that now and then meet Frostbite here."

"Fine with me," Jack said, tossing a smirk at Charlotte.

"Very vell." North crushed another one of those pearl things Jack had that morning and created another portal. "Ve vill update you of anything," North told Charlotte.

"So will I," she promised. "Thank you again."

North winked and vanished into the portal. "It was darling meeting you," Tooth said, waving as she left too.

Charlotte's eyelids suddenly got heavy. She glanced at her alarm: three thirty-two. "Thank goodness I can sleep late tomorrow," she said through a yawn.

"Ya want Sandy to help out in the sleep department?" Jack asked, jutting a thumb at the golden man.

"Sure, that could work."

Sandy pooled sand together until it was a shimmering glob of light. He pointed to a blank slip of paper that sat on top of her jewelry box, as if asking for permission. Charlotte nodded at him, and he plucked it up delicately and put the glob on the paper, handing it to her.

"Just smash it into your face, and you'll be out," Jack said.

"Trust us," Bunnymund grumbled. "We know."

Charlotte balanced the paper on her lap. "Thank you, Sandy."

The Sandman waved and silently left through the portal, which shrunk into itself and was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Charlotte alone in her bedroom with the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost.

Jack swung his head over at her and grinned, eyeing her pajama pants. "Teddy bears, huh? Cute stuff."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "You secretly wish you had these. They're _precious_ chic."

"On the contrary—they're pretty five minutes ago. Rainbows are the new thing."

"You mispronounced 'so last year.'"

"Do you two always bicker like this?" Bunnymund questioned, amused.

Jack and Charlotte met eyes. "Pretty much," they said together.

"I'mma go check up on my Warren and then come back," Bunnymund said. "Sheila, any way you could open your window?"

"I could, but there's a screen," Charlotte replied. "We can go through the front door, but we have to go downstairs."

"Right," Bunnymund said.

"Let's go," Jack agreed.

Charlotte placed the paper on her bed and then put a hand to her doorknob. She brought a finger to her lips, implying that silence was necessary. Bunnymund and Jack nodded. As she crept into the shadowy hallway, she didn't notice Bunnymund butt in front of Jack, or the glare Jack shot Bunnymund that was colder than his snowstorms.

Jamie's, Sophie's, and Mrs. Bennett's doors were closed. Charlotte slunk down the stairs one step at a time, cringing as Jack stepped on the squeaky step and angry that she had forgotten to warn them. Horrorstruck seconds ticked by, but they heard no sign of life, so they continued down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Figuring that it would be better to have privacy, Charlotte led Jack and Bunnymund out to the backyard, which was surrounded by white fencing. "H-Here you go!" she said, teeth chattering from the temperature outside, which she was sure was close to going past zero. Would Jack know? She was too tired to ask.

Bunnymund wrinkled his dark gray nose. "Ugh. There's just so much _snow_."

"You got a problem with snow, Kangaroo?" Jack challenged.

"I didn't until just about five seconds ago," Bunnymund growled. "Shut yer trap before I do it for you, Frostbite."

"I'd like to see you try!"

"I'd like to _actually _try!"

"Ooooookay," Charlotte hissed. "Volume, guys? I've got an overworked mom and two kids inside this house."

Bunnymund and Jack glared at each for a solid minute. "I'll be back in a jiffy," Bunnymund said. He went into the grass, kicked away some snow, tapped his foot against the ground, and a hole opened up. He leapt into the hole, and was swallowed by darkness.

"Good riddance," Jack said harshly. "How can he just disrespect snow right in front of me? That's my snow! He basically just kicked me!"

"You're lucky I'm the only one who can hear you right now," Charlotte said quietly. "Or else the whole neighborhood would be after your frosty little head."

Jack didn't reply.

Charlotte walked up to stand next to him, arms folded across her chest. "You argue with him a lot, don't you?"

"Ahh . . . a little. No, okay, a lot." Jack flipped back his hair, but it flipped back to its original do as he let go. "It's mostly my fault."

"Why?"

"Easter Sunday of '68 . . . it's a long story."

"Wasn't that, like, one of the biggest blizzards ever recorded?"

"Umm . . . yeah."

"Oh. Congratulations."

Jack shrugged, and Charlotte was taken aback by how vulnerable he looked—cocky, flirty Jack Frost now just looked like a troubled teenage boy, in need of a comforting talk or hug.

It began to snow softly. Fluffy snowflakes fell like confetti around them, and Charlotte silently guessed that Jack's confident attitude was deflating like a soufflé. She caught a snowflake in her hand. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

The flake melted in her palm. "Do you actually nip people's noses? Because I think that could be misinterpreted as harassment."

Jack stared at her, dumbfounded. But then he started to laugh.


	7. Black and Blue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I can't express in words how blessed I am to have such fantastic, considerate readers. Your kind words of encouragement, involvement in the story, and love mean the world to me! I just wanted to take this moment to thank anyone who reads this sincerely for taking time to read my humble work. I ADORE writing this story and it's rooted itself deep in my heart. Your dedication as readers and reviewers has given me strength to make this my best piece of fanfic work yet. I love writing it just as much as I love all of you. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying the story so far! Also, thank you for the awesome reviews in general—they're a joy to read and reply to, being so in-depth and complimentary. Thank you again for everything, and a thank you to anyone who takes time to read this story that I've recently been holding very close to my heart.**

**TwistingMoonbeam**

**Chapter 7: Black and Blue**

The Sister found the area quaint.

She glided above the town, apparently called Burgess, in her elemental state and breathed in the early afternoon air with a grimace. She despised winter, and wanted to just release the Nightmare King and return to her Domain. The Human World felt too cold for a Fire Spirit.

The Sister of Fire was still confused as to why Mother Nature wanted Pitch Black brought to her. She technically wasn't doing anything illegal, but the Guardians of Childhood had locked Pitch away a year ago after he had tried to conquer the Human World with his fearlings and Nightmares. They certainly wouldn't be too pleased when they heard Pitch was free—but the fault would not be hers, it would be Mother's. She couldn't disobey Mother anyway—it simply just wasn't done.

A twinge of power reverberated in her. She sensed it and zeroed in on it. "Where . . . ? Ah." She dipped closer to the ground, halting to examine the power. Dark, strong . . . vengeful. The Sister of Fire landed in the middle of a forest, stretches of snowy grass and twigs crunching under her feet as her full body materialized: tall and plump, long fingers with claw-like nails, raven-feathered hair that floated above her head like the flame of a candle. Her outfit was a long-sleeved vermillion dress, lush and satin-like, a gold vest, and a golden band that went around her head under her bangs. Gold specks dusted her cheeks lightly, which only made her cat-like yellow eyes glisten like wet paint.

The Sister of Fire looked around. Wind whispered through the trees, causing the leafless branches to sway in a wintry ritual. She listened intently, fingertips to the ground, the cold of the snow doing nothing to help her mood. Power throbbed under the surface, the source under an abandoned bedpost that was in the dead center of a clearing in the forest, and it was alive, like a black heart was pumping underground.

_How appropriate._

Both hands to the dirt and snow now, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the power, grasping onto it. The Guardians had done a number on the Nightmare King, that was sure: his prison was strong, and he was weak. But with a burst, she broke the prison, and a black shadow came out of the ground like rushing steam. Black sparks shot through the woods and a _boom _echoed, causing the birds nesting nearby to scatter.

The Sister of the Fire waited as the spirit of the Nightmare King collected the fragments of himself together. He was just an inky spirit in front of her, the shell of something leftover from a war for a bunch of children.

"Eldrid," Pitch Black croaked. "Sister of Fire. It's been years . . . you . . . what have you done?"

"I have released you, Nightmare King," she said. "Mother demands your presence."

There was silence as Pitch mulled over the new situation. "I would show my gratitude if I had a physical body," he said at last. "But, unfortunately, that won't be happening until I regain my strength."

"Yes, I know," Eldrid replied. "Mother has plans to assist you in that."

"She seems to have everything planned out, doesn't she?"

"Of course. Mother is always prepared."

Pitch scoffed. "Typical. She's still as over-dramatic as ever."

"I would be a little more thankful, if I were you," Eldrid retorted. "It was through her demand that you are freed from your pathetic prison."

"Do not mistake my comments for ungratefulness," the shadow said, slow and precise. "I am, in fact, very grateful. Confused, but grateful. I will be able to express it more when I have physical form again. But I haven't the slightest inkling as to why she would free me, or why she would want me."

"She's currently working at a project."

"Project?"

Eldrid nodded, pursing her lips and tucking a black, flame-like strand of hair behind her ear. "Mother is after a human girl."

The chuckle that slithered out of the shadow of the Nightmare King was just like his form: dark and ominous. "Really now? How different. I've always thought she despised humans."

"She does," Eldrid said tiredly. "Which is what perplexes me to no end."

"What is it about this girl that is so special to Mother Nature?" Pitch asked.

Eldrid looked at him. "She is Second-Sighted."

The Nightmare King was silent, taking it in. The shadows of his body wavered, like he was doing a complicated mathematics problem in his mind. "Is that so? I can see why she'd be interested."

"More like hell bent," Eldrid said.

Pitch was quiet again before asking, "So, she might require my services for locating this Second-Sighted girl."

"I don't believe the problem is locating her. We know where she is."

"Where? Europe? Asia?"

"Here. In this town."

Pitch chuckled again. "You're _joking._"

Eldrid just frowned in distaste.

"What in the world is stopping you then?"

"A certain _pestering _Winter Spirit."

Pitch sucked in a breath. "Jack Frost."

"The very same," Eldrid confirmed. "Aura tried to bring the girl to Mother yesterday and Jack Frost stopped her."

"So . . . the Guardians are involved in this."

"Jack Frost is, in the very least."

Pitch's shadows flared, black bolts zipping around like bees. "I will follow you. I have a certain . . . _bone _to pick with the Guardians."

"Very well. If anything, the problem could be solved sooner than we think, if Mother's second attempt doesn't slip through the cracks. Follow me, Nightmare King."

Eldrid swept up a curtain of fire, and it formed a cyclone around her and Pitch. In a matter of seconds, the two were gone from the Burgess Cemetery, the only indication of their presence the black and red sparks that were still invisibly racing through the town.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

"_They were here, and you didn't wake me up?!"_

Charlotte winced at her brother's volume as she dropped waffles into the toaster. "You could _not _yell, you know."

She still couldn't believe she had slept in until noon—she _hated _sleeping in that late. But she couldn't blame herself—that glob of dreamsand had done the trick. The second a particle had even brushed up against her nose, she had been out like a light. She couldn't remember if she had dreamed. She made a mental note to thank Sandy for his help.

"How can I not yell?!" Jamie demanded, eyes narrowed in outrage. He was dressed for another snow day, but his hands were in eleven-year old fists. "You promised you'd wake me up if he came back! And now you're telling me they _all _came, and you didn't even think of getting me?"

In her seat at the kitchen counter, Sophie pouted and crossed her arms across her chest. She loved the Guardians just as much as Jamie and had been upset when she found out the rendezvous that had occurred at three that morning. Her tangled blond hair was draped over her face, blocking out an angry green eye.

"Okay, look," Charlotte tried to reason. "It was super late and they caught me by surprise—I was too busy trying to actually accept that they were in my room. Besides, Jack and Bunnymund are coming back; they just had to go take care of some stuff first."

"Bunny! Bunny!" Sophie chirped.

Jamie held his glare for a minute longer before letting it drop. "Okay. You're just lucky I'm a forgiving person, though."

"Aren't I always?" Charlotte said with a grin.

The waffles popped up from the toaster. Charlotte got out a plate, cut them into bite-sized pieces, halved them again, poured syrup into the corner, and handed the plate to Sophie, along with a fork. Sophie gave Charlotte a partly-toothless smile and dug in. Charlotte got cereal for herself, hip against the wall.

Jack and Bunnymund had left a note saying they'd return after Jack brought snow to New York and Bunnymund checked on his Warren. Charlotte was surprised that she didn't have an anxious bone in her body—with Jack Frost and the Easter Bunny around, would Mother Nature even dare?

Charlotte's cell phone began to vibrate in her jean pocket. Fishing it out, she saw that the caller ID read _Serena. _"Hello?" she said, phone against her ear.

"Hey, Charlotte! Sorry I didn't text you yesterday—I got caught up with some stuff."

_She sounds kinda weird, _Charlotte thought to herself. "Hey, it's okay. Serena, are you feeling alright? You sound like you're in a rush."

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm cleaning my room. My mom freaked at me this morning to do it then and I procrastinated. I'm just kind of throwing things around." A few bangs came from the other end. "Ahhhh!"

"Serena?"

"Gah—sorry! Stubbed my toe. A-Anyway, want to hang out today?"

"Uh . . ." Charlotte glanced at the clock in the microwave. What time were Bunnymund and Jack going to be back? _It's just Serena though . . . if we stay close, then maybe it won't be a big deal. Besides, Mother Nature can't know about Serena. _"Sure. Do you want to come over?"

"Actually, I was thinking you could come over here." A pause. "I was gonna ask for help for the Pre-Calc test anyway. I barely get any of it!"

Charlotte smiled into the phone. _Well, at least Serena hasn't changed, despite all the craziness going on right now. _"That works."

"Be here in ten minutes?"

"Sure. See ya then."

After hanging up, Charlotte texted her mother saying she'd be at Serena's. She unwound the bandaging from her palm and sighed—the cut was still fresh and angry red. After applying new bandaging, Charlotte told Jamie, "Hey, I'm gonna be at Serena's for a little bit today, so you're in charge of Sophie and the house."

"But what about Jack and Bunny?" The boy was seated next to Sophie, eating the same cereal as her.

Charlotte blew a stray hair out of her eyes. "I won't be long. Besides, Serena is only a few doors down. If anything happens . . . I'll just run home. It'll be fine."

"They won't be happy, ya know," Jamie said matter-of-factly, spoon limp in his hand. "At least, Bunnymund won't be."

Charlotte hesitated before going into the hallway, hand on the wall. "Ugh, you're right. And the last thing I want to do is piss off people who are trying to help—and _don't _repeat that word," she added, eying Jamie and Sophie.

"Yeah, Sophie," Jamie said. "Don't _ever _say 'help.' You'll get bashed."

"It's no longer a wonder to me how you and Jack are so close," Charlotte muttered. "Okay, well, I can't just cancel on Serena—when they get here, just give them her address and they can, um, meet me there."

"Won't Serena think it's weird that you're talking to air? Unless you can make her a believer in like an hour."

"Most likely not gonna happen. I'll just adlib."

Charlotte jogged upstairs to her room and pulled her coat, beret, gloves, and boots on. She double-checked that she had her phone in her pocket and her house key, Pre-Calc packet and folder, calculator, and a pencil in her bag. After making sure Jamie had her number, their mother's number, and the numbers for the police, fire department, and Poison Control, she exited her house and started walking down the sidewalk to 2181 Blueberry.

The afternoon was crisp and nose-numbingly cold. Charlotte smirked, remembering the question she had asked Jack at three-thirty this morning and his hilarious reaction. Seeing him as upset as he had been had troubled her—perhaps it was only because he reminded her so much of Jamie, but the urge to comfort him had been instinctual. Or maybe she was just that awesome of a person. Either way, it made sense.

Walking to Serena's house was such a normal thing, it felt weird knowing the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost would be meeting her there later. But maybe that was the reality she had to start adapting to.

The Kingston house was identical to the Bennett house in a lot of ways—same color, same structure, same height. The driveway wasn't shoveled, and Mrs. Kingston had already broken out the Christmas decorations: inflatable snow globe, lights on the roof, a Santa figure that was arranged to look like he had smashed into a tree. Charlotte wondered what North would think of it and smiled at the thought.

As she was about to step up on the front porch to ring the doorbell, the world suddenly rocked like a ship in the middle of a storm. Charlotte caught herself before she could trip, but then something shot under her feet and forced her into the air before she was back on the ground, this time on her stomach. She could only watch as a black lightning bolt zoomed away after tripping her, disappearing into the neighborhood.

Charlotte stared, stupefied. She could barely even feel the pain from her stomach hitting the concrete. She managed to her feet, quivering, as the Kingston house's door creaked open.

"Charlotte?"

Serena Kingston had long black hair that was tied back into two ponytails. She was paler and taller than Charlotte, with big doe eyes, a fake nose piercing, two real piercings in her left ear, and nail polish that was always chipping off. She looked at Charlotte with a dark blue, questioning gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh—did you just—did you feel anything? Did you just see that—um, that—"

"I didn't feel anything." Serena cocked her head. "Why don't you come in and relax?"

"Um. Yeah. Relax. Okay." Charlotte walked past Serena, and was startled to find the house dark and even colder than it was outside. When Serena shut the door, she could barely see.

"Serena? Where's the light?"

"Oh don't worry, Second-Sighted One. Where you're going, you won't need light. Because I'm going to make you see stars!"

Charlotte quickly backed out of the way as Serena's outline came lunging at her. _Second-Sighted One . . . ? Oh no. _Charlotte reached out and flicked on the lightswitch that she knew was there due to memory and illuminated the Kingston's living room.

In front of her, Serena's body was wiggling like jello, and then it all sloshed to the ground in a wet heap. Charlotte's hand flew to her mouth, but then the substance on the floor combined together and rose to tower above her. Colors formed and a human shape solidified, and then Charlotte was face-to-face to an Amazon-like woman, with bulging muscles and shaggy brown hair that reached the middle of her back. She wore a blue sleeveless dress that was cut off on the sides to reveal white capris. A blue headband snaked through her hair, and her fists were covered in white bandages. Her eyes were two baby blue jays glaring at Charlotte with contempt.

"Oh no . . . you're not—" Charlotte's voice caught.

"Greetings, Second-Sighted One," the woman said, voice silky and lullaby-like. "I am Nixie, Great and Powerful Sister of the Water."

"Shoot, no—not now—" Charlotte backpedaled a few steps. "Where's Serena?!"

"You have angered Mother with your cowardice and your disrespect," Nixie growled. "And I am here to assure that it _never_ happens again."


	8. Boiling Under the Surface

**Chapter 8: Boiling Under the Surface**

The blood in Charlotte's veins became rivers of ice. She stared up at the Sister of Water and could only carry out one question: "Where is Serena?"

"I'm afraid I don't know of any 'Serena,'" Nixie sneered.

"I'm serious! I get it, you want me, but don't involve her or her family. Just . . . where is she?"

With a smirk, Nixie strutted over the coat closet near the kitchen and swung open the door. The real Serena tumbled out, bound and gagged by strips of water.

"Serena!" Charlotte scrambled to her friend's side. She tried to rip the liquid bonds off, but the moment she touched them, she hissed and recoiled.

"I've designed them to be fire hot to anyone but her or me," Nixie said malevolently. "Now that I've met your demands, it's time you met mine, Second-Sighted One."

The Sister of the Water opened a small capsule that was attached her to her headband, spilled out the contents, and created a whip made entirely of glistening water. She reached back, snapped forward, and the whip wrapped around Charlotte's wrist. Nixie yanked, and Charlotte was forced to Nixie's arms.

"Let _go_ of me!" Charlotte shouted.

"Not until I understand," Nixie growled. "Why is Mother so fascinated with you? You're nothing!"

Furious, Charlotte jabbed her elbow into Nixie's chest, causing the woman to release her. Charlotte ran away, but Nixie utilized her whip again, and with tremendous strength, Charlotte was slammed into the wall, Nixie towering above her.

"Can you _please _just leave me alone?" Charlotte moaned, teeth pressed together in pain, all hints of sarcasm gone.

"No, and let me tell you why." Nixie roughly put her hands on Charlotte's shoulders and held her to the wall, blue eyes boring into the girl's brown ones. "Do you not even understand how much Mother is _obsessed _with you? Ever since she met you, she's been dedicated to watching you. But why? Your only power is to see! That's it! Why are you her favorite?!"

With each word, Nixie had grown angrier and angrier. She was shaking, squeezing Charlotte so hard, Charlotte could practically feel the bruises forming. "I literally have no idea what you're talking about," Charlotte cried.

"I am not here to bring you to Mother," Nixie whispered. "I am here to make you pay for the pain you've put me through for the past sixteen years. You're not worthy of Mother's attention. You're just a stupid, silly, powerless little human."

"What makes you think I _want _your Mother's attention?!" Charlotte erupted. "I hate your mother! She's a psychopath! And I've got you stupid Sisters coming at me left and right, talking about me like—like I'm some _monster _or animal near extinction! I'm sick of it already! Just leave me alone!"

"You _disgraceful _little worm! You have the audacity to speak of Mother in such a way? She is the angel of humankind!"

"She's also a coward," Charlotte spat. "If she wants me so bad, then she can come here and get me herself. I'm so done."

Nixie stared at her, completely appalled, but then she threw Charlotte to the ground, Charlotte's glasses being knocked off, and took out her whip. "The next words you say," she snarled, "are going to be pleads for mercy."

She pounced, and Charlotte closed her eyes.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

"_Whadya mean she's not here?"_

Jack's head snapped away from admiring the flowery wallpaper in the Bennett living room to Bunnymund in the kitchen. The Pooka looked outraged, his paws in the air.

"I told her not to," Jamie sighed as he put his empty bowl into the sink. "She was really insistent on going to her friend's house a few doors down. She left a little while ago."

"Great, just great," Bunnymund complained. "Now we gotta go find her and watch her play dress up and . . . whateva else girls do."

Jamie raised an eyebrow at the Easter Bunny. "Dress up? Have you _met _Charlotte? She wouldn't be caught dead wearing a poofy dress and make-up."

"I was just generalizin'."

"What's the address?" Jack asked. "We can just wait outside and watch through a window to make sure things are cool."

Jamie scrawled it down on a scrap of paper. "I'll be honest when I say I don't know why she bothered going to _her _house, though."

"_Her_? Who's this _her_?" Bunnymund asked.

"Serena Kingston," Jamie answered, sitting at the counter to even out the height difference between him and the Guardians. "She's a jerk. Or, at least, she used to be."

"What happened?" Jack asked, genuinely interested.

Jamie put a finger to his lips, thinking. "I think they were both in middle school. Maybe like a year or two older than me. Serena used to bully Charlotte like there was no tomorrow. Charlotte was kinda geeky back then—she had braces, her glasses were bigger, she hadn't fully grown yet so she was tinier than everyone else—and Serena and her group of friends were merciless. It sucked—and don't tell Charlotte I said that. She used to come home crying almost every day because Serena would just taunt her all the time." Jamie folded his arms against his chest and pouted. "Charlotte apparently forgot about all that, but I sure as heck didn't."

Jack and Bunnymund exchanged a glance. They heard about bullying cases with kids all the time—what kid hadn't been bullied before in their life? When Jack had surprised Jamie last August for his birthday, he found out Jamie had been dealing with bullies himself. (Jack had taken care of that problem though—as long as he was around, no kid would be laying a finger on him.) But fiery, stubborn, firecracker Charlotte—bullied? The idea of her being vulnerable almost made Jack uncomfortable.

"You're a good little brother, mate," Bunnymund said sincerely. "Hard to believe a sharp girl like her could be like that, but she was young. Certainly happens."

"How in the world did they end up becoming friends?" Jack questioned.

"At the beginning of their freshman year, Serena lost all her friends and was left like completely alone. So Charlotte reached out to her and they became friends," Jamie explained, tone swelling with admiration for his sister. "It was super nice of her."

"I'll say." Bunnymund adjusted his boomerang strap. "We goin', mate?"

"Sure thing." Jack ruffled Jamie's hair with a good-natured grin and then left with Bunnymund.

Counting the addresses was a chore. Bunnymund didn't find it too difficult, but the random intervals between the houses baffled Jack to no end. "Why can't they just be one digit?" he had complained. "Like the Bennett house is one, and so on and so forth. Oh, don't give me that look, Kangaroo, I'm just thinking out loud."

They finally found the house five minutes later.

"Mate, what is that?" Bunnymund cried, pointing at the Santa model crashed into a tree. "That's sick!"

"Yeah," Jack snickered. "Maybe they'll have your head mounted on a stick for Easter."

"How can Charlotte be friends with someone so devious?" Bunnymund grumbled, ears twitching.

"Well, if we're going off of that story Jamie told us, maybe it's just out of pity," Jack suggested, arms behind his head.

"Ya really think so?"

"It's hard to tell with that girl. She must like her enough to want to come here during all this craziness, though."

"She's probably just being nice," Bunnymund suggested.

Jack opened his mouth to comment, but then just let it slip closed.

"Got something to say, mate?"

"I dunno. Again . . . can't tell with that girl."

Bunnymund grinned slyly. "Does Jack Frost have the _hots _for this girl? Has Tooth been right this whole time?"

"What? Me? With Charlotte? No way!" Jack slung his staff over his shoulders. "No way," he repeated. "I mean, yeah, I like her as a strong acquaintance, but come on."

"Whatever you say, mate."

Ignoring Bunnymund's mocking smile, Jack went up to the front door and peered inside. "What's with this house? The windows are so dusty."

Bunnymund tried looking in and found the window opaque enough to see two figures as just squiggles. "Who's that?"

Jack and Bunnymund watched as the two figures fought. One was taller than the other and obviously stronger. The taller figure practically lifted the smaller one off the ground and threw them, and then something appeared in the taller one's hand. A cry of pain rocked through the door.

"Um," Jack said uneasily. "I think we should get in there."

"Ya think?" Bunnymund put a paw to the doorknob. "Locked, as I expected."

"We gonna break and enter, or . . . ?"

Bunnymund took a yellow egg from his sash and stuck it to the door like it was glued on. "Duck!"

Jack and Bunnymund barely had enough time to dive to safety as the egg exploded, shattering the door to just bits of splintered wood on the concrete porch and a hole entryway to the house. As pink smoke gently cleared, Jack and Bunnymund seized the opportunity and jumped inside.

"Freeze!" Bunnymund shouted.

"I think that should probably be _my _line," Jack muttered, staff poised in preparation for an attack.

The two Guardians were face-to-face with a tall woman dressed in blue, with angry eyes and a vicious scowl. She held a shimmered blue whip that seemed to move on its own. A few feet away on the ground was Charlotte, struggling to her feet, curly hair in her face, staring at them like they were two of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.

"Guardians," the woman hissed. "I thought I sensed something."

"Nixie. Sister of th' Water," Bunnymund said calmly. "I'm gonna have to ask ya to leave, mizz."

"Leave?" Nixie smiled, and Jack thought she looked a little cuckoo. "But the fun has only just begun, E. Aster. The girl does not know what the true definition of pain is yet."

"You are not allowed to mess with the Human World like this," Bunnymund said firmly. "The girl is under our charge."

"And what will you do on January 2nd?"

Bunnymund's glare broke into a look of surprise. "What does January 2nd have to do with anything?"

"My birthday . . ." Charlotte rose to her feet, eyes wide and glistening. "That's my birthday."

"Exactly," the Sister of the Water confirmed, soaking in the confusion in the room like a sponge. "On that day, the Second-Sighted One will become seventeen years old. The Guardians of Childhood do not protect anyone under sixteen. She will not be considered a child on that date, and then she will be at the mercy of anyone who so desires her."

Jack looked to Bunnymund. "That can't be true. There's an age limit?"

"I'm afraid so." Bunnymund was begrudgingly clenching his teeth together. "Seventeen is considered an adult. We only protect . . . the _children _of the world."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Charlotte flinch, like the idea of not being a child anymore hurt her more than the idea of not being able to be protected by the Guardians.

"So, that's it then?" Nixie purred out a laugh. "Your ideals, your plans, all up in smoke, due to one loophole? I have to admit, Guardians, I'm let down."

"Even so!" The exclamation burst from Bunnymund's throat. "Charlotte's sixteen now, and that's all that matters. If ya want her, ya gotta go through us."

Jack said nothing, but crouched lower in agreement.

"How tempting," Nixie said, twisting a strand of brown hair between two fingers. "I've never fought a Guardian before, and two just sounds divine. But I'm sorry to say that my visit to the Human World today is not about you. It is about her. I will not be satisfied until she realizes what she has put me through."

The watery whip cracked, and a box formed around Bunnymund and Jack, made completely out of water. They could see through it, but as Jack tried walking through it, he found it solid.

"What the—? Oh come on, this just defies physics!" Jack shouted.

Nixie turned away from the struggling Guardians and grinned at Charlotte, who backed away in fear. She tried to sprint down the hallway, but Nixie boarded up all the doorways with sheets of water. Charlotte ran right into one and ricocheted off, hissing and cursing up a storm.

Nixie cracked her whip again, and as Charlotte turned to face her, she slapped Charlotte in the face, causing Charlotte to lose her balance. Nixie wrestled Charlotte into a harsh headlock, held the tip of the whip like a pen, forced Charlotte's hand out, and began to write on Charlotte's palm.

Charlotte's scream was deafening. She thrashed, trying to desperately pull her hand away, but Nixie was much too strong. The water from the whip was hotter than Serena's bonds; it felt like liquid fire. Tears sprang to Charlotte's eyes due to the boiling pain and she brought her fist up to connect with Nixie's nose.

Nixie let go of Charlotte and faltered away, grunting and whining. Charlotte's frantic eyes went to her enflamed palm, which was bright, furious vermillion, a shape etched in. Her whole hand was going numb, slowly like a poison.

Charlotte's vision was growing blurry. She found the strength to get to her knees, seeing Jack freeze the cube of water and then Bunnymund using an egg bomb to shatter it. As shards of ice fell to their feet, they hurried to her side.

"We gotta get you out of here," Jack said urgently. "Or at least get rid of the sea cow."

With a yell of pure rage, Nixie plunged upon them, whip raised, but then a halo of light appeared in front of Bunnymund, Jack, and Charlotte. Nixie stopped in her tracks, and the four watched in awe as an image formed in the white circle: a woman, golden ringlets floating around her face, cold green eyes, and a crown of shrunken, grey vines. The part of her face that could be seen showed no sign of any emotion, the other half concealed by a mask made from the same vines as her crown. But when she spoke, her voice resonated power that could be felt by everyone in the room. "Nixie. What do you think you are doing?"

"Mother—" Nixie suddenly looked terrified. "I—I did not intend for you to see this, I was only—"

"You were only interfering with my plans." Freezing, clipped words, with a tone just as icy. Jack was impressed. "I told you to not meddle until I asked you to. Return to the Realm at once. We will discuss things further here."

And for some reason, Charlotte was terrified too—she knew who the woman was, and it was her lack of emotion that sent tremors of fear deep into her skin, rattling her bones like they were all being held in a basket. She implied danger and agony. She was trying to kidnap her and do who-knew-what.

"Y-Yes, Mother," Nixie stammered, obviously scared. Without another glance in their direction, Nixie evaporated into a ball of teal and sky blue and floated through the wall.

The woman looked at Charlotte, lip jutting out, single eye an orb of toxic green judgment. Charlotte couldn't move or feel a thing under Mother Nature's gaze—her bravado and desire for violence against this woman had flashed out like a flame. She was scared. She was numb.

Mother Nature, gaze colder than Jack Frost himself, only raised her seen eyebrow at Charlotte before the halo of light thinned out of sight, taking Mother Nature with it.


	9. A Kind of Warmth

**Chapter 9: A Kind of Warmth**

Charlotte's hands throbbed.

Her one was still bandaged from the attack from Aura, and now the other was scrawled over like a flawed sketch from a struggling artist. They were the only things in her sight, pressed up against her face, glasses removed, as she sat on the floor next to Serena's passed out body, still in the Kingston house. The image of Mother Nature flashed under her eyelids, making her curl tightly together.

"Charlotte?"

Dull brown eyes looked heavenward to lock onto two perfect circles of blue. "Yeah?" Her voice was muffled under her coat hood and hands.

"You doing alright?"

"As alright as I could be at a time like this."

"That doesn't sound very alright."

She shrugged.

Charlotte knew that somewhere in the room, the Sandman was silently inching Serena's parents into sleep so that they wouldn't remember being attacked by Nixie. Bunnymund had found them bound and gagged like Serena had been in their bedroom. The moment Mother Nature's image had evaporated, Charlotte had dropped to her knees and decided she didn't want the ability to see things anymore, magical or not.

_I'll be at her mercy when I'm seventeen._

The thought made all the anatomical jobs taking place in her body stop. Charlotte had so many angry questions for this woman, but was currently too tired to ask them. The very fact that Mother Nature had sent someone to capture Serena and her family as bait was enough to make Charlotte rethink the entire situation. Mother Nature knew about her friends—did that mean she knew about her family?

She didn't think Jack would take too lightly to the idea of Mother Nature knowing about Jamie.

"She's freaking out," a hushed voice said.

Charlotte perked slightly, tuning into the conversation taking place a few feet away. The first voice had been Jack.

"This is much more serious than ve anticipated." That was North—she could tell from the lack of "w's."

"Hey, look," Jack started, "I think she needs chill time. Mother Nature probably won't strike again for a while, especially if she knows we're involved. She didn't speak to us in that weird bubble thing, but she must know by now."

"True. Can you take her somevhere? Ve vill handle situation here."

"Me? Okay."

Footfalls in her direction, and then coldness near her head. "Charlotte? Charlotte, c'mon, we gotta go."

"Go?" she asked lamely. "Go where?"

"It's a surprise. C'mere." Jack helped her to her wobbly, knobby feet. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Charlotte said, clearing the scratchiness out of her throat. She had to pull it together—one problem at a time. She wasn't apt to show this kind of vulnerability, due to being the oldest, and it felt out of place, like trying to put the triangle block through the circle hole.

"Be careful," North murmured.

"Aren't I always?" Jack teased.

The Winter Spirit opened the front door and peeked outside. The sun was high in the robin's egg blue sky, neighborhood quiet. "Okay," Jack said. "It's too light outside for you to fly with me, so I'm gonna lead the way, and you're gonna follow."

Charlotte fixed her glasses, smoothed her hair, pulled her coat sleeve over her etched-into hand, and took a deep breath. She didn't see the point of Jack stealing her away after such a damning occurrence, but she felt exhausted and welcomed the idea of "chilling." "Alright."

Jack took off, pausing in mid-air as Charlotte slugged outside, clutching her coat close to her body. "How far away is this surprise?"

"Not that far. Jamie walks with me all the time."

For a couple blocks, Charlotte just followed Jack on the sidewalk, hands in her pockets. The neighborhood was practically deserted, which wasn't a big shock to her—it was Saturday afternoon; people were probably warming up by the fireplace inside their homes. Charlotte didn't know if that's where she wanted to be. The frosty air was invigorating, and relaxing by the fire sounded impossible, considering the thoughts that were buzzing around in her head. She just wanted to be somewhere where she wasn't scared.

While they were passing 820 Linson Street, Jack stopped and descended down to her eye level. "This is that kid's house, isn't it? The kid that bullied Jamie."

It was. Charlotte looked at him with surprise as wind fluttered her hair. "You remember where he lives?"

"'Course I do. You don't forget bullies."

Jack stared her straight in the eye, and she sensed that he half meant something else. "I remember when he told me," Charlotte said wistfully. "I noticed a bruise on his arm and asked, and he just confessed right then and there. They picked on him whenever he was out with his friends. Called him . . . they called him a baby because he babbled about you guys all the time."

Jack looked wounded and angry. "Little twerps."

"But they stopped picking on him after about a month because they all froze their tongues to a water fountain while in the park," Charlotte went on, two and two being put together and she spoke. She grinned softly at him. "Nice."

"It was a pleasure. Hey, I am a Guardian after all." Jack shrugged. "I don't mean to play favorites, but Jamie's special. He was the first kid in three hundred years to believe in me. That'll always mean the world."

"No, I get it," Charlotte said sincerely. "He's my little brother. He means the world to me too."

They continued on quietly, but the silence was now coated with respect for one another. Charlotte couldn't believe she actually had something in common with Jack Frost—and even crazier, it was her _brother_. But the past twenty four hours had proven that Jack didn't have ill intentions. He was a Guardian. He was on her side.

She was instantly startled when Jack veered away from the town and into the woods that was behind it. She had never been in these woods before. "Are you sure this is safe?" she called, tentatively venturing through the snow.

"Probably," Jack replied. He lithely landed on a branch, staff on one shoulder, smirking down at her. "You look nervous."

"Nervous? Me? Please."

"I always thought you needed some touch from the wilderness," Jack commented. "You're too . . . organized. Too careful. You gotta learn to let go."

"Psht. Yeah." Charlotte narrowed her eyes as the forest thickened the farther she went in, the trees merging closer together, blocking out Burgess behind her. She pulled a branch out of her face. "I'll learn to 'let go' when Mother Nature learns to kiss my—OW!"

The branch slipped from her fingers and snapped back into Charlotte's face. It hit her square in the nose, flinging her onto her side in the snow. Her fingers, clutching her nose, were wet with melted snow and liquid warmth. "Ohh no," Charlotte moaned.

Jack flew down to her in a second, eyes wide. "Yeesh! You okay?" He knelt down to her, supporting her back with one hand, the other on her shoulder. "Your nose is bleeding."

Crimson blood dripped out of the gaps between her fingers and stained the pure white snow. Charlotte almost felt bad for tainting Jack's art. "And this is why I don't go into the forest," she croaked.

Jack helped her to her feet, appearing anxious. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it stings a little. Here, there's tissues in my bag, can you get them out please?"

Charlotte unhooked her bag from her arm so that Jack could rummage through it. She sat back down in the snow, sitting up straight, and leaned her head forward, pinching her nostrils together. She remembered when she had made the mistake of leaning back during a nosebleed when she was twelve and had swallowed and coughed up blood. Jamie, who had been seven at the time and with her in the bathroom, was forever scared of the sight of blood now due to seeing her spit up blood into the toilet.

Jack handed her the tissues, leaning back on his heels and bent down at her level. She had stopped bleeding, and now her nose was just a vermillion mess. "Thanks," she whispered loudly. "Random question."

"Shoot."

"Can you melt snow as well as make it?"

"Sure, why?"

Charlotte piled snow on top of a tissue. With a wave of his staff, Jack turned it into water, wetting the tissue. Charlotte patted the skin below her nose, wincing, as Jack grimaced and glanced away.

"You can't stand blood, can you?"

"Not at _all_," Jack groaned. "It makes me feel nauseous."

"That's funny, because neither can Jamie. He fainted at the sight of blood once."

"Man, I _love_ that kid." Jack watched as Charlotte hissed, accidently patting her nose. "Does bad luck like that happen to you often?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised, head cocked to the side.

"You'd actually be surprised," Charlotte said, taking off her glasses to make the cleaning process easier.

"Try me."

"Okay. I'm not a clumsy person in the slightest, but ever since I was little, bad things happen when I'm with other people."

"Like . . . ?"

Charlotte pondered. "Fifth grade. We were doing _The Wizard of Oz_, and everyone was super excited, 'cause, I mean, come on, _The Wizard of Oz. _I was just ensemble, therefore a munchkin, which, trust me, if you saw me back then, you would have thought I was taking the role to heart, I was such a shrimp. Anyway, on opening night, I was doing the wicked witch is dead song thing, and as I was dancing around, when out of nowhere, the fake stuffed Toto dog Dorothy is supposed to keep in her basket is under my feet. I tripped, ripped the curtain down, and made all our backdrops collapse on top of each other like dominoes. It took a half hour to fix everything, and even some stuff was still broken while we did the rest of the show."

"Wo-_ow. _That takes talent."

"It's a gift." Charlotte took the tissue off her throbbing nose. "Is it swelling?"

"A teeny tiny bit. Here." Jack scooped up some snow, played with it, and gently put it on her nose. It was arranged into a mold that would fit on her nose perfectly. "Does that help?"

"It actually does. Thank you, Jack."

"Call me _Doctor _Jack."

Charlotte smiled at him. "Get a degree first."

"Shoot, I left it in my other hoodie." He helped her up again and gestured forward with his sparkling eyes. "You still up for that surprise?"

"As long as it doesn't smack me in the face," Charlotte said, putting her glasses back on.

"Oh . . . you _don't _want to be smacked in the face?" Jack frowned with feigned disappointment. "Well, then forget it. Might as well go back."

"Oh, shut up," Charlotte laughed, lightly shoving him. "Show me this amazing surprise, _Doctor _Jack."

"That's _Mister _Doctor Jack to you, ma'am."

"You want this bloody tissue in your hood?"

"Holy crud, no!" Jack flew back, eyes bulging in terror. "Alright, alright, I'll behave."

"This could quite possibly be the greatest discovery known to man," Charlotte snickered. "Just wait until Bunnymund hears about this!"

"Ohhhhhh, no, you are _not _telling the Kangaroo. He'd get me an egg filled with fake blood to freak me out!"

"What a splendid idea!" Charlotte laughed.

Jack scowled. "I will teach Jamie _every _curse word in the dictionary if you and Bunny do that."

"With every word he learns, you're just gonna get another egg."

Charlotte and Jack glared at each other teasingly for a minute before Jack's glare wavered and the two burst out laughing. They continued on until the trees cleared and Charlotte was gazing in amazement at a glistening, perfect lake, the surface frozen and shining like a watery star. The lake and its ground were closed off and silent, as if separated from time to always be ideally tranquil. Snow blanketed the ground around the lake and decorated the naked trees like clothing.

"Wow," Charlotte breathed. "It's . . . gorgeous."

"This," Jack said, sweeping his hands out, "is my birthplace."

"Literally?"

"Well . . . it depends on which Jack we're talking about."

"Aaaaaand you've lost me," Charlotte said.

Jack smiled softly and flew to the edge of the lake. Charlotte galloped through the snow to stand next to him, careful not to kick any of the snow and piss off Jack like Bunnymund had. She waited as Jack breathed in the chilly air through his nose, closed his eyes, and gripped his staff tight.

"When I was a human, my name was Jackson. That was 300 years ago."

Charlotte kept her shock subtle, focusing on her hazy reflection in the frozen lake, the texture of her gloves, the image of her breath coming out of her mouth in a fizzy little puff of chilled air.

"It had been a beautiful winter morning," Jack recalled, gazing at the lake thoughtfully. "I had wanted to go ice-skating, and so had my sister, Elizabeth. She was nervous—but can you blame her? We didn't have ice rinks back then. Everything was natural, and you had to wait for the perfect day to take that kind of risk. To me, it was the perfect day.

"It hadn't even been five minutes before the ice started to crack. Elizabeth was scared out of her mind—you could see it in her face, the way she shook and just _froze _when that first crack perked up. I knew I had to calm her down before I could save her, so we played hopscotch. Three simple hops, and I grabbed her and threw her out of harm's way. Can't say I did the same thing for myself. I fell through the ice like rocks had been tied to my ankles. I remember darkness, water, and the feeling like I was freezing . . . and . . . then I woke up to MiM."

Charlotte was speechless. Her tongue was dry, and her heart was thumping so fast it was causing her discomfort. She wanted to say something, _anything, _but her throat was a printer low on ink.

Jack bent down and picked up a handful of snow. He waved the curved part of his staff over the snow, and it morphed and shifted into the figure of a little girl with long straight hair, a dress past her knees, and ice skates tied to her feet. "This is Elizabeth." Jack spoke so softly, Charlotte had almost missed his words and had to lean in closer. "I've never been able to make her face. Too many details. But now that I've remembered her, I know I'm never going to forget her. I won't let myself forget my own little sister. It's because of her that I became a Guardian, and she's one of the reasons I continue to be one today."

It started to snow, cotton balls of snow getting caught in Charlotte's hair and covering her hat and coat. She didn't permit her eyes to rise from her reflection and the lake. The feelings churning in her stomach meshed against each other and sizzled, filling her with a kind of fire, a kind of warmth.

"Why are you telling me this?" Her voice was hushed, not even a whisper.

Jack met her gaze—his eyes were shimmering, not with tears, but with azure determination and remembrance. A refusal to forget. A moment of connection. A purpose to fight.

"Because . . ." Jack released a breath he had been holding in. "I wanted you to realize . . . you're not the only one who's messed with. All the Guardians were humans before they were reborn into their responsibilities. We all did something to earn our Guardianship, and no matter what it was . . . we were human while doing it. You may be human, Charlotte, but that doesn't mean you can't fight back against Mother Nature. Humans are capable of amazing things. I saved my sister's life, and all I did was play a three-step game of hopscotch with her. Don't doubt yourself, and don't believe all the stuff Nixie said about you. Because it's wrong."

Charlotte stared at him, warmth spreading to her core. "How do you know she said things about me?"

"Bunnymund's got wicked hearing, with those huge ears of his," Jack answered with a shrug. "While you were bugging out and going all Silent Night on us, he told me about the things he heard. And she's wrong, Charlotte. You're not . . . you're not nothing. _I _know what it's like to be nothing . . . and you're far from it."

Snowflakes smudged Charlotte's glasses. She took them off to wipe them clean, and noticed Jack give her a tender smile, like he was only doing it because he thought she wasn't looking. "Ya know," he said, "has anyone ever told you you look nice without the glasses?"

Charlotte chuckled. "Hundreds."

"Why don't you listen?"

"I like my glasses. I'm unique with them. Besides, since when do I come off as the listening type?"

Jack laughed, one hand tucked away in his hoodie pocket. "I guess we have more in common than I thought."

"I guess we do." Charlotte looked at him for a second, then enveloped the Winter Spirit into a hug. His body was a snowman made of ice, but she didn't mind.

"Whoa! Hey." Jack hugged her back, taken off guard. "What's this for?"

"Thank you," she said into his shoulder. "For telling me your story. I really just . . . it was nice of you. To say all that stuff." _You've got such a way with words, Charlotte. _

Jack freed himself from the hug, smiling down at her, pearly white teeth glinting off the wintry rays of the sun. "Thanks for listening. I'm not used to people listening. Anyway," he rushed on, "do you feel better?"

"Absolutely. I want to go back to the Guardians."

"That can be arranged. C'mon."

Jack floated into the air, making his way back into the forest. Charlotte glanced back at his lake, drinking in its beauty, then took her second-favorite camera out of her bag. She got on one knee, focused, re-focused, and _snap! _

"Charlotte? You coming?"

"Yup." Charlotte grinned down at the perfect photo she had just snapped. She shoved her camera into her bag, and turned her back on the beautiful lake, following the Winter Spirit out of the forest, the warmth in her stomach bursting into her heart like a shooting star.


	10. Keeping Tabs

**Chapter 10: Keeping Tabs**

Mother Nature was dreaming.

_She was camouflaged beneath the thick branches of a tree. Down below, bulldozers knocked down tree after tree as humans in hard helmets and orange vests drew up blue prints and directed which tree would fall next. They targeted her tree next, and her green sparkling spirit swooped out of the leaves as the tree collapsed. _

_The scene flashed to a dark beach, the air frigid with cold. She stared out at the ocean in human form, the beach cluttered with trash and litter. The waves splashed up against her bare feet in bleak indigo, carrying six-pack soda rings and glass bottles. _

_Then she was crouching low in the middle of vicious gunfire. A war raged around her, dust, redness, and bloodshed in the air, suffocating and smothering her. To her right, a young soldier was firing, soot and dirt smeared on his face, when a bullet lodged itself into his throat. As he fell, a photo of a beautiful little girl tumbled from his pocket and landed next to his dead body._

_Below her skin, blood was boiling like magma._

"Mother?"

Mother Nature snapped from her dream and swiveled around, mask a line of leafy black on her face. "Hm?"

"I present to you, the Nightmare King, Pitch Black," Eldrid said uneasily, flickering dark hair dancing above her head.

The title sounded strange from Eldrid's tongue, considering the supposed Nightmare King was just a cloud of smoke by the Sister of Fire's side. But Mother Nature perked nonetheless, gliding over to stand before him.

"Eldrid. Go."

Eldrid hesitated, but then slunk out of the room, the two huge autumn leaves that were the doors closing behind her.

"Mother Nature," Pitch's shadowy spirit said. "I haven't spoken to you in years. I'm charmed."

"Likewise, Nightmare King."

"Why, if I'm not mistaken . . ." There was a smirk in his reverberating voice. "It was eleven years ago, wasn't it? When we struck that deal."

Mother Nature bristled, golden curls bright. "I believe you're correct. And you've kept your end of the deal well. You haven't missed once."

"You've been keeping tabs?"

"You sound surprised."

"I didn't anticipate you to become so . . . attached."

Mother Nature shot him a sharp look. "Then I suppose you weren't aware of her level of importance."

"Apparently I wasn't," Pitch said, voice like liquid silk. "Because now you want her for yourself? Is what I've heard true?"

"Oh yes, it's true." Mother Nature clasped her hands behind her back and faced her mirror. It glinted coldly in her dark room, a sliver of crystal against the dead leaves that covered the walls.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Pitch rasped. "I thought . . ."

"Allow me to explain. Come closer."

Pitch's shadowy spirit drifted next to Mother Nature. She ran her wrinkled hand over the glass and the surface shivered before a girl with long curly brown hair and glasses came into view. She was sitting in bed, a little boy and girl at the end of the bed. Her lips were moving quickly as she faced away from the two children, obviously addressing someone else. If a normal human saw her, she would appear to be talking to thin air. But they could see that she was speaking to Jack Frost, one of the five Guardians.

"So it's true," Pitch breathed. "She is Second-Sighted. She knows the Guardians."

"You know see my predicament," Mother Nature said. "I've tried many times already to acquire her, but they keep interfering."

"They do that. But why do you need me?"

"I cannot contact her. I'll be too weak if I leave the Realm, and I can't do it from here. I can only alter her physical surroundings."

"You want me to connect with her through a Nightmare," Pitch realized.

"Exactly. You will go to her, infect her with some of your sand, and then I will tap into her Nightmare."

"What do you plan on doing in that Nightmare?" Pitch asked with obscure curiosity. "The Nightmare you told me to give her every week already hints at many things and scares her every time." He inhaled deeply. "It's a beautiful sight."

"I want to talk to her."

"About what? I don't know how kind she'll be when you face her."

"She won't be kind," Mother Nature said softly. "She's already very angry with me."

"Then why . . . ?"

"If the Guardians refuse to leave her, then I need to try and reason with her to come here."

"Mother, dearest, I don't understand. I thought you hated her."

_I thought I did too, _Mother Nature thought.

"And besides," Pitch went on, "while I would _love _to do this for you, I'm afraid I can't right now. I'm far too weak to be out roaming the town."

"I have a solution for that," Mother Nature said. "Xylan?"

Out of the ground sprouted a tall, stick-thin woman. Her hair was as red as a bowl of cherries and apples and was cut just under her chin. She wore poofy white capris, a long, sharply cut green blouse with triangle-shaped sleeve holes that ended at her wrists, a long brown cloak, and green pointed shoes. She sprung back lithely and did a bridge back to stand before Mother Nature and Pitch.

"Mother," the woman said clearly, bowing. "And greetings to you, Pitch Black. It's an honor."

"I'm sure you know Xylan," Mother Nature said.

"But of course." The Nightmare King's shadow scrunched up like it was bowing as well. "Sister of the Earth."

"You and Xylan are going to go on a mission to help you regain your strength," Mother Nature purred. "And then once you're strong again, the plan can continue."

"How are we going to do this?" Pitch asked, practically trembling in anticipation.

"Simple," Xylan hummed with a smile that reflected the Nightmare King's shadows. "We're going to sizzle up some terror in the little old Human World."

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

Monday morning unfolded golden and frosty for the Bennett household. Charlotte was up at six forty-five, awakening hesitantly due to how comfortable she was, hating her alarm clock and wanting to shoot it into space. She sat up in bed and rubbed her bleary eyes, the sunlight reminding her of the Sandman as it waltzed across her bedroom through the window. Charlotte peeked over the side of her bed, memories lingering on the edge of her mind, and her eyebrows sprung up.

Jack Frost was sprawled across the floor, staff grasped firmly in his hand, passed out. His hood was up and his icy hair hung low, concealing most of his face, but his mouth was wide open as he snored softly, drool dripping onto her carpet.

Memories came blasting back to Charlotte like she was caught in a meteor shower.

_It was midnight. Jack had wished Jamie and Sophie goodnight, giving Jamie one last hair ruffle and saying "'Night, squirt," and had returned to Charlotte's room. Bunnymund, North, Tooth, and Sandy had visited yesterday to regroup and discuss what had happened with Nixie, and Jack had stayed after, hanging out with the Bennett kids all night, telling them stories of his adventures from being a Guardian so far until Sophie had fallen asleep and Jamie was close to joining her._

"_What now?" Charlotte had asked, sitting in bed, placing her Pre-Calc packet back into her folder. She had been doing some last minute studying for the test tomorrow. _

"_Well . . ." Jack put his hands in his hoodie pocket. "Nixie's stunt rattled North, so he wants me to stay here and keep watch for anyone who might come overnight."_

"_So basically . . . we're having a slumber party."_

"_Only if we get to have a pillow fight."_

_Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Such a cheeky Snow Miser."_

"_You say it like it's a bad thing," Jack joked._

"_Well, you're very good at it," Charlotte said with a tiny laugh. "I'm gonna go to bed." She shot him a look. "You behave. You're in a teenage girl's bedroom."_

"_Jeez," Jack grumbled. "It's like you're suspicious or something. Relax, I'm not gonna raid your panty drawers or anything. I'll be watching the windows."_

"_Good," Charlotte said with a huff. "If I find _one _panty out of place, there will be hell to pay, Jack Frost."_

"_Well, there goes my night," Jack said sarcastically. "What's got you so paranoid?"_

"_Sorry. I've just . . . um . . ." Charlotte glanced away, slightly pouting. "I've just never had a boy in my room before."_

"_Oh." Jack frowned and sat on the floor Indian-style. "Uh . . . I'm glad I could have been here to share such a special moment with you?"_

_Charlotte released her tiny laugh again. "You should be. Any other kind of reaction would be completely unacceptable."_

"_I would've gotten hit if I answered that differently, right?"_

"_Yup. Looks like your head isn't as stuffed with snow as I thought."_

"_Half full, half empty . . . depends on how you look at it."_

_She had peered at him then, body illuminated by the moonlight, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Jack."_

_Jack perked and looked up at her, curiosity brimming in his eyes. "You've really gotta stop thanking me for things you're not gonna specify. You confuse me, woman."_

"_I just . . . I dunno . . ."_

"_What's up?"_

_Charlotte squeezed the blanket that covered most of her body. She reached out suddenly and grabbed a stuffed duck that was on the other side of her bed, pressing it to her. "Thank you . . . for the company," she forced out, flustered._

_Jack, appearing displeased by her answer, rose and floated to the end of her bed, sitting on it and frowning at her. "You want to say something, but another part of you doesn't."_

_Her eyes met his, surprised. _

"_C'mon, Char. Just say it. You know you want to."_

_She bit her lip, limply letting go of the duck. She felt ridiculous. "Nothing. I just, uh . . . I just don't have a whole lot of friends. And I'm . . . I'm just thankful for your company. Yours, Sandy's, North's, Bunnymund's, Tooth's . . . it means a lot. Your dedication, I mean."_

_Jack beamed at her, teeth stark in the darkness of her room, like a crescent moon on the darkest of nights. "Hey, it's our job. Don't sweat it. Look, I know you've technically got a time limit and everything, but . . . you'll always be able to see us. And if you can see me, and if you're willing to hear me, then I'll be there for you for anything. Being seen means a lot to me. It's a blessing."_

Charlotte didn't remember a lot after that, just thanking Jack again and going to bed, hoping her worry wasn't coming off in waves. She remembered him giving her a few glances during the night, seemingly being calmed by the fact that she was there. And then she had slept, holding her stuffed duck close, and apparently, so had he.

Charlotte wanted to duct tape her mouth shut. How could she have told Jack one of her deepest, self-known secrets? She had met him three days ago. They may have been friends (close, amusing enemies?), but she couldn't go blabbering to the Guardians about how lonely she felt sometimes. She had friends—maybe not as many as others, but she had them.

_You're just being overdramatic, Charlotte. Just relax. You're fine._

Charlotte carefully got out of bed, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and dressed in a dark jean skirt which was slightly frayed at the ends, black tights, a forest green button up sweater, and grey boots. Smirking, she got out her second-favorite camera and snapped a picture of the dozing Jack.

_Bunnymund's gonna LOVE this._

Jack eventually woke up a few minutes later, mumbling incoherently before jumping up in realization, staff in hand. "WHO? WHAT? Oh." He stretched and waved at Charlotte. "Morning."

"I thought Sandy was the sleepy one," Charlotte teased.

"He is, but we Guardians get tired too."

"Apparently."

"Charlotte!" her mother called from downstairs. "You up?"

"I'm up!" Charlotte shouted, dousing herself in perfume. "And late."

Jack coughed and wafted the scent away from his nose. "Holy MiM! Are you trying to knock me out?"

"Sorry," Charlotte said. "I'm paranoid."

"Of what? Not smelling exactly like a pot of flowers?"

Charlotte tugged on her coat and beret and grabbed her messenger schoolbag from the floor. "Pretty much. I'll see ya when I get home later!" She flew out the door, and as Jack was about to follow, he noticed she had forgotten her Pre-Calc folder. "Doesn't she have that test or whatever today?" he muttered. He grabbed it and zoomed downstairs. Jack peeked from behind a wall as Charlotte scarfed down cinnamon toast. He rolled his eyes. "You could _slow down_, you know."

Charlotte shouted a goodbye to her mother as she raced out the door. Jack, taken off guard by her disappearance, quickly flew through the door after her.

"Charlotte! Charlotte!" Jack cried.

Charlotte sprinted down the street as a bus pulled up at the corner. She quickly got on, and Jack froze in mid-air, slumping his shoulders as the bus rolled away. "Ugh, she really didn't listen to my advice to cool down a little. Now what?" He contemplated for a moment, and then a mischievous grin blossomed across his face. "Ooh, I've never been to modern day high school before! This is my chance to check it out. Aaaaaaaand to distract and freak out Charlotte all day . . . but that's minor."

Laughing to himself, Jack Frost buzzed away, following Charlotte's school bus through the icy Monday morning.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

Charlotte Bennett hated herself.

"How. The heck. Did I forget. _My Pre-Calc packet?" _she hissed to herself as she walked through the hallway to her locket. Around her, fellow juniors chatted, took off their coats, ran around doing errands for teachers. It seemed like a typical Monday, but Charlotte was too furious to take it in.

Charlotte spotted Serena at her locker, went to her, and groaned. "I'm an _idiot._"

Serena turned to her, raising an eyebrow. Charlotte felt awkward, considering the last time she had seen Serena, her friend had been bound, gagged, and later asleep. But if she actually remembered any of that, it wasn't obvious. "How're you an idiot?"

"I forgot my Pre-Calc packet at home!" Charlotte smacked her forehead, ashamed. "I can't study before the test now. I'm _totally _gonna fail."

"Oh, don't think that way." Serena played with her fake nose piercing. "You studied all weekend, didn't you? You'll be fine."

"Ugh, I dunno," Charlotte moaned. "You know Mr. Preston. He pulls random, super specific problems out of the blue all the time. If I don't do well on this test, I'll have a B- average."

"Char. I've got a C in this class. _Re-lax_."

The bell rang, signaling the start of homeroom. Waving halfheartedly, Charlotte scurried to homeroom.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

The morning was passing by in blinks. The first two classes of Charlotte's schedule were College Prep Anatomy and Gym. She walked into Honors World Literature, took her seat, and frowned. Her next class after Lit was Pre-Calc, and with every passing minute, she became more and more anxious. She had her notes, but the packet had been the perfect study guide—and she had been a moron and left it at home. _Stupid!_

Charlotte glanced out the window, miserable. She knew she was stiff when it came to her grades, but she was always engrossed in them and cared about every last point she earned. She wasn't in advanced classes just because she was decently smart—she worked as hard as she could when it came to school.

"Alright, class, it's time to begin, settle down," the teacher, Mrs. Wilms, said. She was a middle aged woman with dirty blonde hair, hot pink fingernails, and clunky jewelry. "That snow day was crazy, huh? Completely unexpected too! What'd everyone do on their three day weekend?"

As students called out answers, Charlotte put her chin in her hand and gazed out the window she sat next to. She was shocked to see that the bright, shiny morning she had woken up to had vanished—now it was positively gloomy and almost threatening, the sky swirling with grey clouds, the sun out of sight, and a thick fog settling down on the snowy ground.

_Weird, _Charlotte thought. _Could Jack have something to do with this? It looks like a storm. Oh PLEASE don't be another Sister. I've got enough to freak over._

Suddenly, something flashed past the window, a familiar streak of blue, beige, and silver. Charlotte sat up in surprise and felt her pulse zigzag as Jack Frost floated down to the window, grinning and pointing to a rectangular object he was holding.

Charlotte squinted. _Is that . . . ? OH MY GOSH IT IS! My Pre-Calc packet. _White velvet sheets wrapped around Charlotte's heart. _He brought it for me._

"Charlotte Bennett!"

Charlotte jumped and faced forward, flinching under the hard gaze of Mrs. Wilms.

"Just _what _is so interesting outside that you're not paying attention?" Mrs. Wilms demanded.

"Buh . . . it's just, um . . ." Charlotte shook her head, as if doing so would shake the jitters out of her. "It's just the sudden change of weather, is all, Mrs. Wilms, ma'am. I was curious."

"Yes, well, the weather has certainly been very interesting lately, but when you're here, your attention is on the books, not the window," Mrs. Wilms snapped.

"Yes, of course, M-Mrs. Wilms."

Charlotte's face was on fire. Sweat was suddenly pouring down every part of her body. That happened when she was embarrassed—she sweated buckets, and she hated it. She eyed outside subtly, wanting to see Jack again, but he was gone.

"Jeez, what's her problem?" Jack asked, floating above her.

Charlotte shrunk in her seat. _Oh no . . ._

Jack landed down on Mrs. Wilms's desk, staff behind his neck as he balanced it on his shoulders. He walked across the desk, avoiding papers and framed photographs. "This is English, right?" Jack asked her. "Bor-_ing_."

Charlotte's throat was dry. She nodded faintly, trying to keep her eyes on Mrs. Wilms as she taught.

"And another thing," Jack added, "what's up with her yelling at you like that? You were just admiring some scenery. She acted like you set your textbook on fire or something. Well, anyway, here." Jack hopped down and put her folder on her desk. He must have noticed the alarmed question in her eyes, because he smirked down at her playfully. "No, they can't see me. They couldn't see the folder, either, until now. What's that? Oh, Charlotte, you're welcome for coming all this way to give it to you. Oh Charlotte, stop, I'm blushing."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and scrawled something down in her notebook: _Thanks, Snow Miser._

His smile blazed with luster. But then it faded away as Jack lunged to the window and peered outside. "No way. No way!"

_BANG! _The whole school suddenly trembled, books being knocked off desks and lights flickering. With a roar, huge green vines shot out of the ground and continued up into the next floor. Students screamed and cowered against the wall, Mrs. Wilms screeching for order.

Jack scooped Charlotte up and held her above the ground bridal-style as the chaos erupted. His spellbound blue eyes were trained on something outside, and Charlotte strained to see what it was.

In the distance was a black figure, barely even passable as human-like, for the human body was morphing in and out from a cloud of smoke. Even from the distance, though, Charlotte could spot black sparkly sand forming around the figure, and could especially make out the gleaming yellow eyes.

"Jack," Charlotte started slowly. "Who is that?"

Jack was sheet-white as he answered her in a quivering voice. "That's Pitch Black."

The loudspeaker shrieked as it was turned on. "Attention Burgess High School! Please excuse this interruption. But can the Second-Sighted One please report to the main office?" The static-y female voice cackled like a witch, making Charlotte bunch together in fear, eyes wide with realization. "Again, the Second-Sighted One to the main office, please. We're waaaaaaiting for you, sweet pea!" The voice cackled again like a maniac, echoing through Charlotte's mind, and then the loudspeaker cut off.


	11. The Battle of Burgess Pt 1

**Chapter 11: The Battle of Burgess Pt. 1**

Charlotte had never seen Mrs. Wilms freak out before.

The English teacher was cowered up against the blackboard, clutching her heart and whimpering. Jack set her down and Charlotte ran to her, helping her sit on the slanted ground, checking her pulse. "Mrs. Wilms? Mrs. Wilms?" she asked.

Weakly, Mrs. Wilms grasped onto Charlotte's sweater. She was as pale as Jack, maybe even paler. "Ms. Bennett . . . is that you . . . ?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me!" Charlotte cried, students forming a semi-circle around her. "Can you hear me?"

"Y-Yes," Mrs. Wilms moaned. "What's going on? Is this an earthquake?"

"I—I don't think so. But, Mrs. Wilms, can you stand? Are you dizzy?"

"No, no, I'm just—" Mrs. Wilms's green eyes met hers. "I'm scared. I'm just scared, is all."

A lump materialized in Charlotte's throat. A teacher was admitting she was afraid. In front of her whole class! Chatter erupted behind her, and every comment nipped at her like a mosquito.

"What the hell is going on?"

"The vine—it just _flew _out of the ground—"

"That woman on the loudspeaker sounds insane!"

"We've gotta call for help! Does anyone have a phone?"

Charlotte looked to Jack, who was glaring out the window. "You should probably see this," he said.

Outside, vines were growing out of the ground and slithering up the brick of the school, encasing the building in pointy thorns that scratched against the window and left marks. Charlotte was slammed with the image of the window being her own skin, and her stomach dropped five stories.

"One thing's for sure," Jack said, eyes narrowed. "She doesn't want us leaving. Her or Pitch."

"Which means," Charlotte continued, "no one can leave. Unless we go to her first."

"The other Guardians will probably sense this. Or it'll appear on the Globe." Jack looked overwhelmed. Charlotte guessed it was because he was the only Guardian here, and he had a whole school of kids to protect.

The loudspeaker crackled again. "_Sweeeeeeeeeeet pea!" _the crazy female voice shrieked. "We're waaaaiiting! Your little friends won't be escaping any time soon unless you report to the main office!"

Charlotte covered her ears as the woman's voice struck her mind again. "Oh, screw this," she muttered, picking up her bag. "Jack, we're going."

"Wait. Like, right now?"

"Yup. The other Guardians will catch up . . . if they even know this is happening. You guys really should get walkie-talkies or something."

Jack nodded at her, and she hoped the determination that was etched into his features would replace the determination she was bluffing.

Charlotte waddled her way to the door that led into the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

She turned: David Glyndon was staring at her in confusion. She realized, in probably the strangest way possible and at the worst time, that she didn't know a lot about him—dark hair, bushy eyebrows, soccer team, Honors Pre-Calc with her. She didn't know a whole lot about anyone in her grade except for Serena and a few other girls.

David swallowed. "We—we should stay as a group. Stick together. We don't know what's going on here."

Fear radiated from him like a halo of it was hovering above his head. He wore the same expression as every other student in the class—bulging eyes, eyebrows kneaded together, lips smashed to form a line, poor posture. The darkness outside was casting shadows on David's face, dancing whenever he breathed. Everyone was afraid.

Afraid because of her.

"I'm the one she wants."

Wait. Had she really just said that?

"How do you know that?" David demanded.

"It's a loooooong story," Charlotte assured. She decided to throw a little caution to the wind—besides, maybe Sandy could put everyone to sleep after it was all over, make them think it was a dream? Unlikely. "But, look, I—I know what I'm doing. I know none of you believe that, but . . . just . . ."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jack was watching her carefully.

"Just believe in me."

The Winter Spirit gasped.

"I know for a fact . . . that belief will get you anywhere," Charlotte told her English class with a little passion. "It can help you achieve and see anything. We've got a lot to lose, and I think I know a way out of this. I just need you guys to believe in me, and I think I can solve this."

And like she had waved a magic wand, every one of the students, even Mrs. Wilms, seemed to relax a bit.

"Let her go," Mrs. Wilms croaked. "She seems to see a solution in this. Charlotte . . . I may not know what's going on here . . . but I do know this: we will believe in you."

Charlotte nodded numbly. An emotion she couldn't identify was crawling up her intestines and wiggling in her chest. The students she knew so little about, ganging together to trust in her. "Thank you, guys. I'll be back. Um—don't follow me."

Charlotte managed her way out of the crooked doorway. As her foot exited the room, the door was suddenly engulfed in thorns, blocking out her Lit class.

"I guess she doesn't want us followed anyway," Charlotte whispered.

Jack's back was to her. "What you said back there . . ." He faced her, eyes and cheeks glowing.

"Yes, that was inspired by you guys," Charlotte responded. "I think I'm starting to get it. About the power in belief and all." She looked like she wanted to say more, but bit her lip and stayed silent.

The hallway was a garden of thorns: they protruded from lockers, the floor, and vines of them ran across the wall, basking the hallway in dim green shadows. The hallway was slanted slightly, just like her classroom had been, and Charlotte struggled to keep her balance as she got to her feet.

Jack floated next to her, high enough off the ground to that his chest was next to her head. "I'll keep the lead," he suggested. "And you give the directions. You never know what's hiding in these shadows, considering Pitch."

Charlotte nodded, wishing she had the metal bat from her closet now. Jack plopped to his feet and crept down the hallway slowly, staff raised in case of attack. Charlotte kept behind him, eyes darting back and forth between the lockers and the thorns. It was like her school had been transformed into a thorn garden funhouse.

"Left," she whispered when they finally got to the end of hallway.

All the doors were boarded up with vines and thorns. Charlotte could hear shouts and cries and bangs as students and teachers tried to find a way out.

"As of right now, I don't think they're in any danger," Jack murmured. "They could be seriously used against you later though."

"Beautiful," Charlotte huffed. "When I found out who's doing this, I'm going to—"

The words were caught in her throat as the loudspeaker beeped again. "I can sense your arrival, Second-Sighted One. Like the budding of a flower after water, sunlight, and love . . . I'm coaxing you to me, coaxing you out of hiding and into the light. I can't wait to meet you. I've heard great things."

"I'm sure you have," Charlotte muttered.

"Have you ever heard the story of Sleeping Beauty, Second-Sighted One?" the female voice asked, curious. "A king and a queen, desperate for a child. They later had a beautiful baby girl, and she was a beloved creature across the kingdom. They threw a feast for her, and invited everyone, even the twelve fairies—except for one, the thirteenth: a mean, spiteful fairy they feared. Well, that thirteenth fairy showed up to the party uninvited and, in a fit of envious rage, cursed the baby princess to prick her finger when she turned fifteen—even though her age changes with stories—and die. Oh, but the good fairies wouldn't allow this to pass! So they altered the spell to say that she would sleep for a hundred years instead.

"Eventually, the prophecy came to pass, and the little princess did prick her finger with a spindle and was cast into a deep slumber. Following her were her parents, the castle workers, and all the animals. Everyone fell into a deep, unbreakable sleep, and hedges of briar roses started to grow, inching closer to the sky as the years passed, soon swallowing the castle in thorns and roses. The curse was only lifted when, many years later, a brave prince broke through the thorns and awoke the princess, waking everyone else up as well. They got married and lived happily ever after."

Charlotte made a face at the ceiling. "That explains her choice of attack. And here, after all this time, I thought it was Sleeping Beauty's evil twin sister that was the one who broke the curse! What a plot twist."

"She spoiled it for me!" Jack pretended to whine.

"It's okay," Charlotte assured with a smirk. "The book is _waaaaaay _better anyway."

"You know, I had heard that," Jack played along.

The loudspeaker cut off.

"Finally," Charlotte grumbled. "Anyway, take the next left, the main office is right—" Suddenly, the ground crumbled from under her and Jack. Charlotte was falling, and then she was landing on something weak and prickly; the whole thing had taken less than ten seconds. Charlotte coughed and groaned at the pain in her back and butt. She blinked into dust and croaked, "Downstairs."

Evil laughter hit her ears. "Finally! It's you!"

The main office was composed of three desks and a tiny hallway that led into the principal's office. But now the desks were knocked over except for the middle one, a hole busted into the back wall, letting in snow and wind. A woman stood on top of the desk. She had a thin, wiry body and short red hair, wearing a regal green and white outfit. Charlotte though she resembled a tall elf.

The woman smiled down at Charlotte. "So you're what all the fuss is about."

Charlotte scrambled up, noticing that huge pink flowers were bursting from the floor, and that she had fell into one. She back up onto solid ground and met the woman with a glare as Jack leaped to stand slightly in front of her. "Lemme guess: Sister of the Earth?"

"Observant. The name's Xylan," the woman said, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

"I'm not going with you." Charlotte's voice shook, but not with fear. "Mother Nature has to get that through her thick skull—I'm not a threat to you people!" She threw her hands up. "I can't even build a successful sandcastle without messing it up somehow. _Please _explain to me exactly how Mother Nature thinks I could affect her in any way?"

Xylan blinked at Charlotte with surprised lime-green eyes. "You really don't get it, do you? You're very precious to her. She hates you most of all, Second-Sighted One."

Charlotte's hands fell beside her. "Well, that's . . . great. That's freaking _great. _A lunatic I've never met actually hates me. Fantastic."

"She doesn't need to meet you to hate you," Xylan said pointedly. "You're a human; that's reason enough."

Charlotte opened her mouth to retort, but Jack demanded quickly, "What are you doing with Pitch Black?"

"Hello to you too, _Jack Frost_." His name was pronounced with a sneer. "Regardless, Mother Nature has invested in his acquaintance—but because of you Guardians significantly weakening him last year, he requires strength." Xylan smirked. "So we've come here to scare up some power for him. Fear apparently reeks from this building because of all the frightened students . . . courtesy of me, of course. And we figured we would pick you up along the way."

Jack tightened his grip on his staff and Charlotte breathed out suddenly through her nose. Encountering a strong Boogeyman was _not _on her check-list of things to do today.

"But while that's going on . . ." Xylan swayed her fingers, and the pink flowers splurted a twinkling violet gas. Drifting up, it met Jack's nose with full force, and he coughed twice before tumbling to the floor.

Charlotte, back against the wall, caught Jack's body. She slapped his cheeks lightly, heart hammering. "Jack? JACK?"

"Relax, he's just out cold." Xylan released a loud laugh. "See what I did there, Second-Sighted One? Aren't I funny?"

"No, you're a freaking flower lady with a dumb haircut, a thing for Sleeping Beauty, and a lousy sense of humor!" Charlotte exploded, arranging Jack's unconscious body behind her on the ground protectively. "Now leave my school alone and get lost!"

A serene smile remained on Xylan's lips as she peered down at Charlotte condescendingly. "Insulting an Elemental Sister is not a smart decision, little girl. After all, as the Sister of the Earth, I am in tune with the ability to read the details of the outside to discover things of the inside, like the rings of a tree stump . . ." Before Charlotte's eyes, Xylan jumped from the desk and was suddenly in front of her, not a hair out of place. She grabbed Charlotte and spun her around, holding her in a bone-crushing embrace around her shoulders. She breathed in, murmuring, "Ahh, yes, just as I expected. So much weakness, yet so much _fire. _Longing, confusion, insecurity, anger, loneliness . . . regret? Hm, and for something relating to the Guardians, how interesting . . . Ugh, you have hints of that _wrench_ on you, such a shame . . . You see, sweet girl? There's no such thing as a closed book. How strange for Mother to crave someone so . . . _brittle. _For you, there will be no prince to crash through the haze and kiss you awake though, like the story of Sleeping Beauty. You possess a great power, the beautiful power of _sight. _And that's why you have suffered so much . . . because you can _see_."

Charlotte, speechless, tried to break free of Xylan's embrace, but the Sister of the Earth held on, but not roughly—she seemed to actually be hugging Charlotte with tenderness.

"_And that's why you have suffered so much . . . because you can _see._" _What did that mean?

Xylan's body being ripped away from her awoke Charlotte from her revere. She watched as the Sandman tugged the Sister of the Earth away, golden whip around her waist. A huge sleigh was parked outside, and North, Tooth, and Bunnymund were climbing out to join Sandy near the hole in the wall.

Sandy smiled reassuringly at her and a sand image appeared: a hand gesturing her over. She grabbed hold of Jack's limp body from under his armpits and dragged him through the pink flowers to the Sandman, who had put Xylan to sleep. Sand flowers were dancing above her head.

"Sandy!" Charlotte cried, overjoyed to see the Guardians.

"Charlotte!" Tooth grasped Charlotte's hands in hers, worry on her face like newly grown feathers. "What's going on?"

"I see alert on Globe," North said, swords drawn. "And—and Pitch is—is here?! Vat is happening?"

"Mother Nature woke him up, or something." Charlotte squeezed her hands together after Tooth had let her go so that she wouldn't suck her thumb. _Not the time, Charlotte. _"Whatever you guys did to him last year . . . it's not happening anymore. And—and he's here with _her"—_she jabbed a finger at the sleeping Xylan—"to make him stronger by scaring my entire school."

To describe the emotions that crossed the Guardians' faces at the point was something Charlotte immediately decided was almost impossible. Their expressions were created by a terrible mix between fright, despair, and shock (with a dash of outrage for Bunnymund and the least of all three emotions for Sandy). But Charlotte couldn't believe how discouraged they looked, like Pitch was the playground bully who had returned from suspension to finish the job.

Suddenly Tooth's hands flew over her _O _shaped mouth. "My goodness, what happened to Jack?"

"Um—those pink flowers aren't just there for decoration, let's just say that," Charlotte replied. "How can we wake him up?"

"I've got this one," Bunnymund volunteered, a cheeky echo to his voice. He asked North to hold Jack upright, and as the Winter Spirit hung in North's arms like a puppet, Bunnymund jump-kicked Jack in the stomach, waking him up and sending him to the floor with an "Oof!"

"Haha!" Bunnymund cheered. "That kangaroo-like enough for ya, mate?"

"_Uuuuuuugghhhh," _Jack groaned. "That settles it: next Easter is going to be the coldest, whitest one yet."

"You make one snowflake that day, and I promise you—"

"HEY!" Tooth yelled.

Jack and Bunnymund looked at her, surprised.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a trapped school, _filled _with innocent children, with one of the Elemental Sisters asleep a few feet away from us, and _Pitch Black _slowly regaining enough strength to possibly fight back up in the sky, even though we thought we had locked him up for good last year! So if I were you two, I would stop _wasting my energy _on squabbling with each other and focus it more on _protecting the children and making sure Charlotte isn't taken to Mother Nature!" _

With a huff, Tooth zipped outside with an amused Sandy and North to spy on Pitch.

"And _that_," Jack said as he stood up with the help of his staff, "is why you _never _piss off the Tooth Fairy."


	12. The Battle of Burgess Pt 2

**Chapter 12: The Battle of Burgess Pt. 2**

"It wasn't on my to-do list, I assure you," Charlotte said nervously. "Now, you two shake hands so that we can go beat Pitch."

With frowns, Jack and Bunnymund nodded at each other, but Charlotte knew it wasn't the end to their bickering.

She, Jack, and Bunnymund waded through the rubble until they were outside the school. They stood on a sidewalk that was half concealed by snow and stared up at Pitch, who was almost unidentifiable against the blackness of the cloud-infested sky.

"Is he doing that?" Bunnymund asked. "Th' clouds, e'mean."

"No," North answered grimly. "Pitch can only attack during night. Mother Nature es probably changing veather to block out enough light for Pitch to be outside vithout pain."

"Sure does help with the ambiance," Charlotte muttered.

Pitch glowed with a dark kind of light, like he was illuminated in blacklight, and sat atop a black creature. Even from far away, she could tell he was laughing. But then his golden gaze zeroed in on her and the Guardians and he rode down on his midnight-colored horse to hover roughly ten feet above them.

"Greetings, Guardians," Pitch said smoothly. "It's just been ages! How have you all been? Come on, fill me in on the 4-1-1."

The Guardians formed a protective ring in front of Charlotte, weapons bared like claws. "It . . . interesting to see you too, Pitch," North responded.

"And what's this? There's a new member of the gang!" Pitch smiled coyly at Charlotte. "This must be the Second-Sighted One I've heard so much about."

Charlotte drank in Pitch with forced courage: earlier in English, he had just appeared as a black, foggy blob; but now, with his strength regained, Pitch was a figure to recognize. He was lean and tall, with rubbery grey skin and a black V-necked robe. His hair was slicked back and glossy, with rounded angles to his face and no eyebrows. The only color on him was his eyes, a mixture of gold and green. She was struck dumb by his presence, and it occurred to her that this was the _Boogeyman—_the true-blue Boogeyman!

"Yeah," she forced out of her dry throat. "That's me. Do I live up to the hype?"

"Oh, absolutely, my dear!" Delight sparked on Pitch's face. "You've already won me over by being able to see and speak to me. Most children can't even do _that._ Although, you don't really have a choice, do you?"

"Nooooot entirely."

"_Why're ya just casually talkin' to him?" _Bunnymund hissed.

"I wouldn't count yourself at the short end of the stick, though," Pitch commented. "I mean, you can see the beautiful Guardians, you can see me, you can see the Elemental Sisters—what's to not enjoy?"

"Those sisters are batty," Charlotte spat.

Pitch shrugged. "I won't disagree. Ooh, how I do love conversation. You definitely are a fun one. But, alas, I'm a man on a mission. And since it seems Xylan is out of the picture . . ." Pitch patted his horse, his hand sprinkled with dark purple sand as he took it away. "This, Second-Sighted One, is Nightmare sand. I'm sure you've already figured out the pun—'Night_mare_.' But one dose of this, and I can create creatures you've only been too afraid to imagine. I can make you writhe with some of the most sinister bad dreams possible. For I, the King of Nightmares, know what _everyone _is scared of." His eyes snapped to Charlotte. "Even you."

Pitch blew the sand out of his palm with a released breath, and it grew, solidified, and stamped its hooves into the snow, neighing furiously, now a Nightmare.

"We can handle one," Bunnymund muttered.

But then the Nightmare stomped again, and trails of sand dispersed around and six more Nightmares popped into life, surrounding them.

"Or . . . seven," Bunnymund added.

"I have a message for you, Guardians," Pitch announced. "Mother Nature is declaring war on you . . . for her. Unless you give her up willingly, you have a long battle in store for you."

The Guardians formed a circle around Charlotte.

"Okay, here is plan," North said. "Ve go vith frontal assault, charge, and race to sleigh over there. Ve must keep ourselves betveen them and Charlotte."

Tooth, Bunnymund, Sandy, and Jack nodded, rigid with tension.

"Ready . . . and . . . _CHAAAAARRRGGGGGEEE!"_

And then the Guardians all screamed battle cries (with the exception of Sandy, who just jingled) and attacked. North engaged in battle with a Nightmare, his swords clanging against the creature's hooves; Bunnymund tossed both of his boomerangs, and they swung back to slash through two Nightmares; Tooth, wielding a tiny silver dagger with a rainbow hilt, fluttered above one before stabbing it in the back; and Sandy slapped at two with long golden whips, and they transformed into chirping dolphins.

The remaining two Nightmares fell back, caught off guard by the Guardians' power.

"Quickly! To sleigh!" North cried.

Sandy, Tooth, Bunnymund, and North reached the sleigh in time, but Jack and Charlotte fell behind as the two Nightmares angrily blocked their path, mere feet from the sleigh.

"Jack!" North yelled as the reindeer bucked impatiently.

"Okay, I'm gonna do something," Jack told Charlotte, "but you can't freak out."

Before she could quip back, he waved his staff as he became airborne. Eyes squeezed shut, Charlotte was whisked through the air by a path of ice that acted as a road, Jack creating and navigating it as he flew. She sailed right over the Nightmares and slammed into the sleigh, knocking into the side before settling on the floor.

"Go, go, go, go!" Jack urged.

North slapped the reins and the reindeer took off with snorts and grunts. The sleigh lifted off the ground and began to soar through the dark sky.

Hand curling into a fist, Pitch followed. "Don't worry, Guardians!" he called. "I love a good chase! Really gets the _blood _flowing!"

"I can't tell if he means that _outside_ the body, or inside," Jack commented.

Charlotte fumbled into a seat on the sleigh next to Sandy. Tooth and Jack were right behind her, while North drove and Bunnymund sat to her right, looking queasy.

"Not a flier?" she guessed.

"I hate this bloody thing," he moaned in reply.

Charlotte, holding the side of the sleigh in a death grip, peeked over the edge. Burgess High was the size of a piece of candy below her. The air whooshed by, blowing her curly hair back, her glasses pressed into her skin, and flushing her cheeks. The sleigh rocked slightly as they soared, the stormy, swirling sky black, the air frigid as the inside of an igloo. Her stomach felt like it was playing jump rope with her lungs. A cold bucket of exhilaration had been dumped over her head.

She hadn't realized it before when escaping Aura with Jack, but she _adored_ flying.

"Sandy, Tooth—vith me! Bunny, control sleigh!"

Bunnymund stared at North with disbelief as he leapt to the front of the sleigh. "Are ya crazy, mate?!" he yelled after him. "I can't _drive _this thing!"

North, too busy fighting off Nightmares, didn't reply.

"Good thing I'm here!" Jack said, reaching for the reins.

"_Oh, no," _Bunnymund objected, snatching the reins away. "No way in _hell _you're driving, mate."

But it was clear after the first thirty seconds that Bunnymund lacked any idea how to operate Santa's sleigh. He would pull too hard on one rein and not hard enough on the other, and once even got his arms tangled together from criss-crossing them.

"Alright, Cottontail, you've had your go," Jack said.

"No, no, I've got this!" Bunnymund insisted. "I've seen North drive this thing a thousand times."

"Watch out!" Charlotte cried.

At the last minute, Bunnymund managed to yank up at the reins before they crashed into the flagpole.

"Bunny, I know you're Australian and all, but that doesn't mean try to rip the American flag to pieces!" Jack cried.

"Bunny, let Jack drive!" Charlotte yelled. "You're not very good at it! No offence."

"Now, what in MiM's name is with you two and saying that _and actually being very offensive?!"_

"BUNNY!" Jack and Charlotte screamed in unison.

"Oh, fine!" Bunnymund handed the reins to Jack. "I'm feeling sick anyway."

North, Tooth, and Sandy fought Pitch's Nightmares viciously, but Pitch, strength fresh, just continued to churn them out like they were on a conveyor belt.

"Just hand her over, Guardians!" he called to them. "You can't go on forever!"

North crawled back into the hull of the sleigh, sweat dripping down his beard. "He is right," North mumbled. "Ve are strong, but ve are not vell-oiled machines."

Jack stared at Pitch with a peculiar kind of longing on his face as North took back the reins. Just as Charlotte was going to ask what was wrong, a Nightmare bumped the side of the sleigh, tripping her to the floor, her bandaged hand screaming in protest. It reared its belligerent head into the sleigh, soulless eyes landing on her.

Scrambling back against the opposite side of the sleigh, Charlotte fumbled through her bag for something to use as a weapon. She grabbed the first thing she could touch and held it in front of her. Charlotte's heart sank.

_My second favorite camera?_

The Nightmare whinnied, startling her. Charlotte's finger slipped, and there was a flash of light as she took a picture of the creature.

The Nightmare shrieked in agony before dissolving into golden sand.

Charlotte stared and then forced herself to blink and breathe. "The flash from my camera! It's light! _Oh my gosh, the irony!"_

"What the heck are you screaming about up there?" Bunnymund groaned, pulling his ears down in front of his face in discomfort.

"Guys! Guys!" Charlotte got to her knees. "My camera—it can take photos, and I've got the flash on—"

"Now is not exactly time for photo op!" North interrupted.

Charlotte frowned. She quickly pushed past North and sat on the front of the sleigh.

"What're you doin'!" Bunnymund cried.

"Charlotte!" Jack and North objected.

Finding her balance and threatening herself if she dared glance down, Charlotte focused on one of the Nightmares heading straight for her. She gulped, fixed her glasses, acquired her target, and then _SNAP! _The flash from the photo frightened the Nightmare and it burst into golden threads of sand.

"See?" Charlotte questioned smugly.

"Eureka!" North proclaimed.

Charlotte climbed back into the sleigh and pulled two more cameras out of her bag. "They're for school," she explained, giving them to Jack and Tooth. "I take a photo class."

"The flash is so darling!" Tooth gushed.

"Alright," Jack said with a smirk. "Let's go document some Nightmares!"

Tooth and Jack stormed off, snapping at every Nightmare that crossed their paths. Finally, all were gone, transformed into golden sand that floated at Sandy's fingertips as he grinned.

Pitch observed the scene with fascination and irritation. "Clever, Second-Sighted One, clever. But I do hope you realize this isn't over. I will take my leave, but we'll be back. Your petty little town won't be safe forever, nor its inhabitants."

Charlotte tossed something at him, but not to injure him. Pitch caught it with ease: an envelope. "What is this?"

"I have a message for Mother Nature," Charlotte declared. "Something I found while I had some free time over the weekend. You tell her that my name is Charlotte Amelia Bennett. _Not _Second-Sighted One. _Not _girl. _Not _person she hates the most. And if she wants me so bad, she needs to come here _herself_ and be in search of a Charlotte Amelia Bennett from now on. Because that's who I am, and one trait will not define who she sees. If I'm able to see, then she needs to learn how to see, too."

Pitch was quiet as he observed the envelope and Charlotte's stern expression. He seemed to be musing about something mentally. "It would be a privilege . . . Charlotte. Oh, and I feel the need to mention this, because surely you're dying to quiz me on it. Your nightmare? Your personal one? That was her idea, not mine. Having a reoccurring one is a special situation . . . and this one was due to request."

Charlotte's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. The images in her nightmare came to mind: lightning, rain, the woods. The usual pain zipped at her chest and she winced, but she knew she was making it up that time. "W-What does it mean? Can you stop it?"

Pitch shook his head. "I am forbidden from telling you anything more. I may produce them . . . but I cannot decode them. For once, Guardians . . . I might be the neutral party. But Mother Nature is not treading lightly—she means war of the utmost kind."

"We won't back down," Jack replied, and the other four Guardians nodded in agreement.

"How valiant of you. Anyway, I'll be sure to give her this. Until next time, Guardians . . ." His gaze swung to Charlotte's shocked one. "Charlotte."

And then the Nightmare King vanished into a flurry of shadows.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

When Pitch arrived back at Mother Nature's Realm, he couldn't recall the last time he'd been so pensive.

_She's a peculiar one, that's for sure. Not many would be willing to straighten out Mother. But she's much more fun than the Guardians._

He entered Mother Nature's room, depositing the sleeping Sister of the Earth to the floor.

"We couldn't get her this time, but I'm much stronger now."

Mother Nature faced him, her single eye emotionless. "I expected as much. Xylan is often to get carried away. At least now you're back to physical form. You delivered my war message?"

"I did, and they've accepted."

"So it's come to this . . . very well, I expected as much. As long as she's sixteen, they don't have much choice. But I am prepared to pull out all the stops for this war. They may be the Guardians of Childhood . . . but she is _mine_."

"Speaking of which, Mother." Pitch handed the envelope to her. "A message from her."

"A message?" Mother Nature ripped the envelope open.

"A paper one and a verbal one. She demands you call her by her actual name from now on . . . Charlotte Amelia Bennett."

Mother Nature peered down at the message in the envelope: an article from the World Wide Web, as humans called it. The article was about the most recent natural disasters that had happened on Earth. A few lines from the article were underlined.

_**It seems that the weather has taken a violent turn . . .**_

_**What could have Earth and its powers so manic and crazed? . . .**_

_**The massive amounts of damage caused by these famous storms points to pure uncontrolled insanity . . .**_

_**Despite these harsh, tough times, we will band together to fight off and make it through, showing resilience and a refusal to give in . . .**_

Mother Nature read the lines three times each before turning the article and the envelope into tiny flames in her palm. She glanced at her enchanted mirror and an impressed smirk graced her features.

"Then let the games begin, Charlotte."


	13. Guests of the Pole

**Chapter 13: Guests of the Pole**

"And now onto our top story: the Burgess High Attack. The administration for Burgess High School has released statements of confusion and relief as of seven twenty-eight this morning. School will begin again for students tomorrow, Friday, December 16th. Last Monday, the high school was suddenly attacked by what many report as 'huge vines.' Office workers in the school reported a crazed woman removing them from the main office and seemingly in charge of the attack. Students and teachers were trapped in their rooms for roughly one hour before the school was shifted back to normal and the vines and anonymous woman vanished. Numerous calls for 911 were called in during the time of the attack, but the vines were receding as police and firemen arrived. School has been closed ever since and is reopening tomorrow for both students and teachers. No claims of who could be responsible for the attacks have been reported, but a police report has been filed and a sketch of the mysterious woman created."

Charlotte let the remote plop out of her hand and onto the space next to her on the couch as she watched the evening news. The scarily accurate pencil sketch of Xylan reflected off her glasses and made them shine in her dark living room.

"Investigators are asking anyone with information on the identity of this woman to step forward and help with the case," the newscaster said.

Charlotte sighed as the newscaster moved onto the weather and hopped off the couch. It had been days since the battle with Pitch and Xylan, and she still couldn't sit still without feeling like something was going to pounce from the shadows.

The memories rolled through her eyelids: the absence of Xylan forcing the school to its normal balance, the vines slithering back into the ground, the police and firefighters showing up with cocked eyebrows and questions. Disregarding the destroyed main office, the holes in the floors, and the traumatized students, it was like nothing had even happened.

But Charlotte knew better.

Somehow, word had gotten out about how she had left to talk to Xylan. She had been questioned by investigators, but she told believable lies: she'd had no idea who the woman was, but had left to try and find out. No one in her English class had breathed a word about her big reveal . . . yet.

Charlotte curled up to herself and pulled a quilt over her body. The past few days had been some of her most stressful. The constant threat of Mother Nature hung over her like she was inside a very cramped tent. First her friend, then her school—was her family next? Just being home felt like she was huddled in a muddy hole during a war, rigid in anticipation for gunfire and battle cries, too-large helmet slipping down over her line of sight.

"Wouldn't that be nice?" she whispered bitterly. "Not being able to see."

Instantly, she regretted the words. It was seeing the bad, supposedly-evil things in the mythical world of the Guardians that left her so eager for blindness. But seeing the Guardians themselves was something she considered a strange gift.

"_Longing, confusion, insecurity, anger, loneliness . . . regret? Hm, and for something relating to the Guardians, how interesting . . ."_

Charlotte hadn't the beginning of an inkling on how Xylan had been able to read her memories and emotions so easily, but it was apparent that the "regret" she detected was the thing she was having difficulty admitting to herself.

_If it wasn't for this crazy adventure I've been thrown into, I wouldn't believe in the Guardians._

Charlotte wasn't a technical adult yet, but she had stopped believing in the Guardians many years ago—probably years before she should have. Her mother's constant working, social troubles at school, and the divorce's ugly head reared into her life and banished some of the childhood delights. Her heroes had become simply legends and bedtime stories. It was the way of life, and surely the Guardians knew that, but it ran deeper than that, to the point of hurtful truth. A truth the Guardians could never know.

She was asleep before she knew it, and dreaming.

_A glass room, large and echoing. A crystalline globe, the continents covered with different symbols of extravagant color. Then she was picked up, and she was looking into the exhausted emerald eyes of an angelic woman. The woman gasped at her, and her mouth twisted in scorn._

"_Clever. But not clever enough to stop me."_

**=!=!=!=!=!=!=!**

"Charlotte? Helloooooo?"

Charlotte woke up with a start. Jack stood in front of her, bright blue and white in the darkness of the living room. "Jwack?" She yanked her numb thumb out of her mouth and wiped it dry on the quilt that barely covered her legs.

Jack bent down to peer at her. "You good?" His face hardened. "That wasn't a nightmare, was it?"

"Naw—no, it wasn't," Charlotte managed. "Just a very weird dream." She dusted the golden sand that formed a ring over her head away as she yawned. "What's up?"

"Well, uh . . ." Jack hesitated. It wasn't a good sign.

"Jack. Spit it out."

"We, um . . . have a plan. And the others want to tell you about it. Like, now."

"Now?" Charlotte rose from the couch. "I don't know. I mean, my mom isn't home yet. And I know she can't see you guys, but I don't want her thinking I'm crazy for talking to thin air. The neighbors already think that."

"She's home," Jack told her. "She, Sophie, and Jamie are all sleeping upstairs. It's two in the morning."

"Oh, what!" Charlotte tugged her phone out of her pocket: 2:16. "Wonderful. I'm gonna be so exhausted for school tomorrow."

"Uh, trust me," Jack said uneasily. "If our plan works . . . you won't be having school tomorrow."

Charlotte eyed him suspiciously. "What the heck does that mean?"

"Umm . . . you'll find out. Go get some warm clothes and meet me out front."

Bemused by his secrecy, Charlotte tiptoed up to her room. Jack was right in saying everyone was snoozing: she could hear Sophie's soft sighs, her mother's snores, and Jamie's sleepy silence as she slunk to her room. Once there, she put on her coat, beret, boots, and gloves, and put her second favorite camera on a strap and put it around her neck. She snuck down the steps and out the door, locking it.

Jack was waiting for her outside. He was playing with one of North's snow globes, tossing it up and catching it.

"What happened to the pearls?" Charlotte asked.

"Ran out. This way is more accurate, too."

"Where are we going anyway?"

Jack smirked at her. "The North Pole," he whispered into the snow globe and threw it. A portal materialized, full of rushing wind and the foggy image of an icy mountain.

Before Charlotte could comment on where they were heading, Jack took her hand and they jumped into the portal.

The sensation of traveling across the planet through just a mysterious magic portal was one Charlotte would never forget. She wouldn't have been able to, even if she tried—it was like going down a slide made of a tempest. Cold and hot air encased her as she zoomed down a cylinder of hexagon-shaped shards of light, all refracting colors of the rainbow, and then slid against something and finally stopped on her back. Her fingers grazed the material under her. Carpeting?

A groan drifted off her tongue as aches spread to her back and arms. Was that rug burn?

The sounds of squeaking made Charlotte open her eyes. Five tiny hummingbird-fairy creatures hovered above her, patting her face with their pointy noses. They all had magenta-colored eyes, except for the one in the middle, which had one pink, one blue.

"Ladies!" came a sharp reprimand. "Give her some air. The snow globe method is never a pleasant one."

The fairies twitted away, allowing Charlotte to sit up. The North Pole! It was as amazing as she was expecting and more. The gigantic room she was in was comfortable and warm, a fireplace crackling and popping with fuel of hunks of log. The floor stretched out into a balcony that overlooked the rest of the room, and a Globe loomed over, marked with polka-dots of light. Some of the weirdest but _coolest_-looking toys circled around the Globe, honking, vrooming, and releasing puffs of sky blue smoke.

All five Guardians were present: Jack was low-fiving Sandy, who jingled with laughter. Tooth, pointing dainty fingers in random directions, was giving orders to the hummingbird-fairies, who nodded at her commands and zipped away; Charlotte caught the words "Sector Seven" and "Maxillary Central Incisor." Bunnymund was ogling a Christmas mug warily while North waltzed into view, holding a silver tray.

"_Hoooooooooly_ crap," Charlotte gasped. "The North Pole!"

"Name makes much more sense now, huh?" North asking, grinning. He offered a meaty hand to help her up and swept the cover off the tray. "Christmas cookie? Oh no!"

Under the tray sat a tiny red triangle with legs. A face popped out from a haphazardly-cut hole in the triangle, revealing two orange eyes and a round red nose. The creature sat in a pile of crumbs, green, purple, and yellow icing splattered across his cheeks.

"Bingle!" North roared. "Cookies vere not for you!"

"Is that . . . an elf?" Charlotte asked carefully, noticing the long, angled ears sticking out of the creature.

The creature hopped down from the tray, panicking, and then scurried away, the jingle bell on the top of his triangular outfit ringing up a storm. He pushed past three other elves as he escaped North's wrath, and then all four preceded to start punching and biting at each other.

"Charming little buggers, aren't they?" Bunnymund commented.

_CLANG! _A metallic boom rang out in the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte spied a purple dot speeding toward North, who was too busy scolding the elves for their militancy. Charlotte scooped up the cover of the tray, discarded on the ground, and leapt to North's rescue—the speeding object ricocheted off the tray and swung around to fly into the flames of the fireplace. An explosion of colorful sparks erupted from the fire, the logs coated in melting purple paint.

"Vat in name of—!" North barked.

From around the corner, a massive furry creature bounded into the room. Thick strands of brown and beige fur covered its entire body, and two vibrant green eyes poked out from under bushy eyebrows. It threw its remarkably tiny hands into the air and garbled something Charlotte couldn't even hope to comprehend.

"Phil!" Jack cried, grinning.

The furry creature noticed Jack and its eyes grew. It pointed at Jack accusingly and growled a low, recognizing grumble.

"Phil! Are you trying to kill me?" North shouted.

Phil garbled again, appearing offended.

"No matter!" North proclaimed, shooing away the elves. Charlotte noted how one had a black eye; another had teeth marks in his nose. "Go get other guest!"

The creature groaned in exasperation and turned away, its footsteps thumping like it was wearing stone shoes.

"My apologies for the behavior of my elves and yetis," North said. "But very good reflexes! Vill come in handy for future."

"That was a _yeti_?" Charlotte demanded.

"Oh yes! They make the toys!" North answered heartily.

"The elves don't?"

"Vould you vant toy made by them?"

"Ummm . . . no."

"Good choice."

Charlotte gazed around in awe. "I can't believe I'm in the North Pole. This is every kid's dream!"

"But of course it is," North answered proudly, watching her face. "There! Right there!" He came closer, big blue eyes alight like Christmas tree bulbs. "It is _that _expression I live for. That look of vonder! The _joy_ of seeing something you've never seen before!" North sighed and stood upright. "Pure poetry."

Charlotte smiled at him, tasting cold guilt. _Why did I ever stop believing in you?_

"Anyvay," North went on, his tone stern. "I'm sure Jack has told you of our new plan?"

"Uhh, no," Charlotte replied, eying the Winter Spirit, who was scratching the back of his head in chagrin.

"Probably for best," North decided. "I vant to explain to both of my guests at same time."

"You rang, Nicholas?"

The whole group faced the newer voice in the room, and Charlotte widened her eyes. He was about six feet tall, with wrinkles lining his cheeks and forehead and tiny dull buttons for eyes. His beard was long enough to scrape the floor, pure white, and he had a wreath of black arrows adorning his bald head. His robe was midnight blue and decorated with little sundials and clocks. Hanging from a leather belt was a black hourglass, and clutched in his vein-infested hand was a deviously sharp double-edged scythe that was just as long as him.

"Father," North said warmly, beckoning the man over. "Thank you so much for coming. I hope yetis have treated you vell?"

"Yes, very well, indeed. Although I will never understand how you can decipher what they speak of. The language of the yetis will forever be a mystery to me. And that is saying much," the man responded, making his way to stand before North.

"It is not so much understanding as it is practice," North said with a laugh. "Now, this is the girl I have told you about."

The man looked to Charlotte, and she snapped from her revere to meet his calculating gaze. "Hello, sir." She sounded apprehensive, even to herself. "A-Are you . . . Father Time?"

The Guardians were the most silent she'd ever seen. Bunnymund, Jack, and Tooth appeared starstruck, but Sandy was neutral.

"Why, yes," Father Time said. "Yes, I am. Very good observation. Are you the Second-Sighted One of this age?"

"Yes, sir."

A couple moments went by of Charlotte and Father Time just staring at each other. Charlotte could swear his pupils were clocks themselves.

"The plan, North?" Tooth pressed quietly.

"Ah, yes!" North's voice was a sledgehammer in the placid room. "Father, Charlotte, now is time for plan. Are you ready?"

"Let's go with that," Charlotte said.

"Excellent! Alright." North cracked his knuckles. "Here is plan: Father, you vill stop time in Burgess and Charlotte vill stay here at the Pole vhile ve combat Mother Nature. Ve vill find allies for this war she is challenging! Vith time frozen in Burgess, she vill not be able to use anymore children or any of Charlotte's friends against us."

"Whoa whoa whoa—freeze time in Burgess?" Charlotte demanded. "That's . . . that's possible? You can do that?"

"Of course he can! He is Father Time!" North said.

Father Time held his chin in consideration. "I have not stopped time in many moons," he remarked. "Performing such a deed requires much power and reason. Was this an idea of yours, Nicholas?"

"No, Father. Manny's idea."

"Ah yes. The Man in the Moon. Such a fascinating being," Father Time said. "To request something so large is very much in his nature, especially for the good of a child. But, I wonder, what will I receive in return, for such a large request?"

The color drained from North's face. "Bah—um . . ." he fumbled. "I, er, am not sure of that."

"Wait," Charlotte cut in. She made a mental note to _finally _ask the Guardians who Manny was: a question she'd been meaning to ask for days. "So, let me get this straight: you'd literally stop time in Burgess?"

"Yes, quite in the literal sense," Father Time replied, running a hand down the blade of his scythe. "Time is a peculiar and complex concept. I could stop time anywhere, or go back in time, or go forth to the future. As Father Time, I am burdened with the tasks of maintaining balance over time and death. I see and bring death to those who are ready . . . Time is not something to meddle in, Guardians. Only those worthy enough may enter its vortex of complexity. Once frozen in time, Burgess cannot be brought back unless I make it so. And your journey may take days."

"What about the people who pass through Burgess? Won't they see something's . . . off?"

"I will place a spell in Burgess, and anyone who enters or sees will immediately be frozen."

Charlotte's mind was whirring. If time was frozen in Burgess, Mother Nature wouldn't be able to mess with her friends and family—they could finally be safe!

But when could she see them again? When would they be unfrozen?

Charlotte felt like a straw sucking at an empty cup. _There's possibility I won't talk to them for a long time, _she thought unhappily. _I'd be leaving everyone I love behind. On my own, just with the Guardians, in a crazy, dangerous world I'm not used to yet. Can I do that? Am I that stupid? No . . . I don't want to leave them!_

"Charlotte?" A hand was on her shoulder. She glanced up to find the comforting face of North. "You do not need to agree to this plan if you don't vant to. Manny just vanted your family to be safe in such an unpredictable time. After all"—he stole a glance at Jack—"Jamie and Sophie are two of my favorite believers."

Safe. She wanted her family to be safe. That's what she's always wanted, wasn't it? That's what she had been stressing about all week.

Their safety meant more to her than her fear.

"No," Charlotte declared. "I want to do it. It's a good idea."

"Are you sure?" North asked.

She nodded, and looked to Father Time, who was watching her with careful precision. "Can you do it?" she asked.

"I know what I want in return, Nicholas," Father Time said, looking at Charlotte like she was the only one there. "I will freeze Burgess for your quest if you can pass my test of worth."

"Test of worth?"

"I will examine your heart. If I deem you worthy of my assistance, I will stop time in your town. If I do not, I will do nothing for you."

Charlotte pondered the proposition and then asked in a small voice, "Will it hurt?"

"Will my answer change yours?"

_He's good. _"I suppose not." Charlotte took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll take your test."

Nodding, Father Time lifted his scythe above his head, and before she could cry out, he swiped it at her chest, chucking her mind into a sea of smoke and brimstone.


	14. The Pain of the Brave

**Chapter 14: The Pain of the Brave **

"Ohhhhh no."

The North Pole had been replaced by a murky chasm, the air choking with a pungent scent Charlotte didn't recognize. She was standing on a silver bridge, rickety with boards, and saw Father Time at the other end. Above was a beam that held the whole bridge up, the ends supported by platforms underneath that latched onto the beam with rope.

"This is the Bridge of Judgment, Second-Sighted One."

Charlotte realized with bulging eyes that the whole structure was a scale, the two platforms the plates used for measurement. Making it to the other side would get her to the other plate.

"It is here that I will test your heart, to discover if you are worthy for my aid," Father Time continued. "Your goal is to reach me, here on the opposite side. Do this, and I will freeze time in your little town. Do not, and you will fall."

"F-Fall?" Charlotte peeked over her shoulder; the chasm seemed bottomless.

"You may begin when you are ready."

Charlotte was bewildered by the new environment. The task seemed simple enough, but she knew it must not be simple at all. She bent down on one knee and pushed down on the first step before her. It didn't bend or rattle to her touch, so she tentatively took a step forward.

A flash of silver sand erupted in front of her feet. The sand morphed and curved until it was a person, and Charlotte gasped at the sight of herself, five years old, crying into a teddy bear, sucking her thumb. _"It was such a scary nightmare," _five-year old Charlotte whimpered. _"I've never had one so scary before. What is it?"_

The shock of the physical embodiment of the memory of the first time she had her infamous nightmare sent Charlotte stumbling back. The memory morphed back into silver sand and the bridge teetered, her end slumping down a few inches.

"Father Time!" she shouted. "What's going on? What is this?"

But he didn't reply. Father Time didn't even make any sign that he had heard her.

Biting her lip, Charlotte took the first step forward again, and the memory flashed up again, just as vivid as last time. Charlotte tried to run through it, but the sand was stronger, pushing her back. As the memory replayed, Charlotte was having a difficult time holding in her frustration. "What do you want me to do?" she cried. "I—I don't understand!"

She breathed deeply. _Focus. You have to focus and not let your temper get in the way. You have to . . . believe!_

Charlotte almost had a heart attack as light began to crack on her chest and something poked out. In a flurry of alarm, she grabbed the handle-like object and pulled—and then she was holding one of the coolest swords she'd ever seen. It was curved and gorgeously sharp, the hilt encrusted with a large white stone. Purple twinkles leaked around the sword and seem to orbit around it. The emergence of the mystifying sword caused wind to blow her hair up and around her face.

Charlotte was at a loss for a cheeky comment for once. She just wanted to pass the stupid test and get the heck out of there. So, faith fueling her body, she stepped forward again.

The memory played again: tears, questions, an old, beloved teddy bear. Charlotte threw all her strength into the sword and swung it at the memory. The blade slashed through it, and silver sand flooded down into the chasm.

Charlotte stared. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen! This mysterious sword was her ticket to pass Father Time's test! But where had it come from?

_That's not something to worry about right now, _Charlotte mentally decided.

She gripped the hilt and made a move to walk, but halted when the reality of the test rained down on her like sleet. The test was designed to examine her heart, and she had just come face-to-face with a very bad memory. Was that the point of the test? Facing down bad memories?

The fact was already notorious to her: she had a lot of bad memories. And acknowledging them was something she was terrible at. She could do it when she was alone, but not to another person. Not to someone who was watching.

But she wanted nothing more than to get away from the Bridge of Judgment and back to the North Pole. So, reluctantly, Charlotte inched forward.

Silver sand blazed up and formed a new image: Jamie and Sophie, sobbing in her arms, and her mother sitting across from them, sullen and tired. She recognized it instantaneously: it was the day they had come home from a weekend with their grandparents and found out, together, that Abby had passed away from chasing a squirrel into the street. It had been an awful day; she had been up till five in the morning dealing with the shock of the loss, and had heard Jamie and Sophie's sniffles through her bedroom walls. Charlotte would never forget the looks of pure, stark heartbreak on her siblings' faces, and as the memory versions of them turned around to run to their mom, she was hit with the heartbreak again.

It was like she had been sailing peacefully on a boat and then it had hit jutting rocks, only it was her heart that was sinking. Charlotte mashed her lips together and sliced through the memory, hiking up the tilted bridge until a third memory arose.

By the size of her glasses, it must have been elementary school. She was sitting off to the side, alone, in a large room, and a group of kids were dancing in the center. The Fifth Grade Graduation Dance. Her mother had forced her to go, even though she hadn't the slightest urge to attend. Memory Elementary Charlotte perked as three boys waddled out of the throng of dancers and went to the snack table, getting punch and cookies. She sprung from her seat, smoothed her dress, and approached the boys shyly, sights set on only one: Rodney Lintskey, her first crush. They chatted for a few moments before Charlotte, who had one hand leaning on the snack table, accidentally pulled the tablecloth and the bowl of juicy red punch splattered all over her dress. Most of the fifth grade class—including Rodney—laughed at her, and she sprinted from the room in tears.

_Slash. _Charlotte cut through the memory with stony eyes.

Four more footfalls had her confronted with a fourth memory: middle school (a.k.a. hell) Charlotte, wandering around during recess. While other kids played kickball and hung out by the swings, she had always walked around the playground, just watching and silently wishing. Her hands were buried deeply into her coat pocket as she rounded a cluster of metal tables, where middle school Serena Kingston was with a group of girls. They started to peer at her and point and giggle, and Serena opened her mouth to say something to her, but Charlotte sliced through her and the mean arches to her eyebrows before the memory could finish.

Her pulse was pounding in her head. How much more of this could she take?

Charlotte was three-fourths across the bridge, head low, when the fifth memory materialized in front of her. She was sitting in her room with her mother, and to her surprise, her father was there too. Seeing him was the weirdest experience, like opening a time capsule from—what felt like—a hundred years ago. The distance between them while they sat on her bed was empty with unspoken words, but they were both holding one of Charlotte's hands.

"_Sweetie, we're getting a divorce."_

It was like Charlotte was being stabbed with her own sword. It was a moment she'd never forget—but how could you forget the moment when your parents told you they weren't in love anymore? She had been twelve, and it had been devastating. Secretly, she had thought it was her fault for years.

Her sword automatically came down and slashed the memory to particles, but the agony was growing within her. She hadn't noticed it before, but now it was prominent: the swelling pain in her chest. Charlotte hadn't revisited these memories for a reason. Encountering them all again, within the span of ten minutes, was beginning to be overwhelming.

_Almost there. Just a little farther, and then you never have to think about these memories ever again._

Five more steps led to the next onslaught: a much older Charlotte, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, speeding around the house. She looked overworked and sleepy, swapping from dusting the TV to checking on the macaroni and cheese that was cooking, to pounding digits into a calculator. It hit Charlotte that it was her current reality: her mother working such long hours to keep the family of four afloat left Charlotte to the housework and Jamie and Sophie. For some time, it had made Charlotte angry, that she had to take on the roles of mother _and _sister. But by the time she was sixteen, she had adapted to the job and knew it was for the best. Her family didn't have a lot of money to begin with—the divorce was profitable to their side, but her father had already been on a plane to Japan by the time the money had come rolling in.

The feelings of hurt and frustration from the unfair situation of her past crashed over her like a wave. Charlotte wasn't even aware of her sword dicing the memory into shreds until the silver sand swooped past her and into the chasm below.

Father Time was so close, Charlotte could point out individual wrinkles and veins on his skin. _A few more steps . . . almost out of this nightmare!_ The grey face of Pitch Black swam into her mind, and she pondered on whether or not he had played a hand into her test.

She was six boards away from the opposite platform. The taste of being close to passing a test intertwined with her taste buds. It was something she tasted often in school, and this was just another test to strap under her belt. So Charlotte took a literal leap of faith one board away from the platform.

The sand was slower this time, as though it was taking its time to craft a memory that would truly stop her. And then it appeared. Charlotte went cold. She recognized the memory only from the fury in her memory self's face, the way her body was positioned, the haze of exposition and, a few seconds later, regret, thick in the air.

The Charlotte in the memory's lips separated as she began to speak.

"No . . . no, I can't hear this. I can't see this! Not now!" Charlotte hissed.

Panic sparked in her and spread like lightning. It would break her to experience it again, in reality, when she was already dealing with it in her head.

"NO!"

Charlotte cut and slashed like a marauder fighting for claimed treasure. The sand split and split again before vanishing completely. She sprinted to the platform, panting and sweating. "I'm done . . . I'm done . . . I passed!" she cried at father Time. "I passed! Let me go back, please! It—" She gasped. "It hurts . . ."

Father Time finally addressed her harshly. "You have passed, child, but you are quite far from done. You defeated your past, but your flaw lies in your desperation to cast it from you. The past cannot be forgotten or erased. You must learn from your pain, or else you will never quench the thirst for answers and peace."

"A-Answers?" Charlotte asked in a wobbly voice. "What a-answers?"

"The answers the two of you both seek."

"W-Wait." Charlotte's eyebrows furrowed. "Two?"

Father Time swung his scythe again, and she saw him no more.

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

The floor gave Charlotte a warm welcome as she fell on her back with an "oof!"

Father Time loomed over her, expressionless, as the Guardians watched with bated breath. Jack flew to her side as she sat up, biting back groans.

"What just happened?" Jack asked.

"The girl has passed the test of worth," Father Time declared. "I will stop time in this town for you."

"Ooh, Charlotte, you did it!" Tooth was to her left, hugging her.

"Excellent!" North boomed with a smile. "Phase one: completed!"

Charlotte removed her glasses and rubbed her face, hoping to wipe away any signs of distress. She noticed Jack watching her carefully but ignored it.

"How can ve ever repay you, old friend?" North asked Father Time.

"Payment is not necessary, Nicholas." Father Time ran a finger down the blade of his scythe, like he was checking for dust, and his hand came back with silver sand. "I will assist anyone who proves their worth to me. Let the Man in the Moon consider this a favor. But I wonder . . . what has Mother Nature so riled up?"

"She has been trying to kidnap Charlotte for many days now," North explained. "She has attacked humans and joined forces with the Nightmare King, Pitch Black. She has shown that she is villing to hurt humans. That is vhy you must stop time in Burgess: she vill have no von to use against Charlotte."

Father Time hesitated, but then said simply, "She always was such a miserable woman."

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

An hour later, Charlotte, the Guardians, and Father Time were shooting through the onyx sky in North's sleigh. Charlotte was crammed between Jack and Bunnymund in the back, the wind whistling in her ears. In front of her, Sandy and Father Time seemed to be in deep conversation—Father Time was murmuring and Sandy was creating golden sand images in his hands to talk back. Tooth, next to them, stared uncomfortably out into the sky.

Finally, they docked on top of the Bennett household's roof, silent as a feather, despite the bulking reindeer and the rickety sleigh. North dropped the reins and turned around, white beard shining in the gloom of the six o'clock morning. "Charlotte. All you need to do is get inside and grab vhatever you vill need. Take your time. Do you have vay to get inside?"

Absently, Charlotte replied, "Yeah. There's a key."

"Very good. Tooth, Jack?"

The Tooth Fairy took one hand and Jack took the other. They lowered Charlotte down to her front door and waited as she plucked a house key out of the wreath on the door. Once the door was open, Charlotte gestured for Tooth and Jack to follow her up the stairs.

As Charlotte reached for her bedroom doorknob, Jack said, "Wait." He glanced backward. "Can I . . . can I go say bye to Jamie super quick?"

Tooth's plumage of feathers drooped. "Jack." Her voice was soft, comforting. "It's not goodbye. It's temporary."

"I know, but . . ." Jack looked to Charlotte, a pleading twist to his features. "Can I? Please? I won't wake him up."

The curve of the doorknob dug into Charlotte's palm as she squeezed. "Of course. Just sneak back here when you're ready."

"Thank you, Charlotte." Jack breezed across the hall and slunk into Jamie's room.

Charlotte entered her own room, Tooth right behind her. She switched on the light after shutting the door and Tooth gasped in quiet delight. "Your room is darling."

"Thanks," Charlotte chuckled, brushing hair behind her ear. "It's been cleaner, but I love . . . I love it. I'll miss it."

Tooth smiled sadly. "You'll be back before you know it. You have a room worth coming back to, and one worth waiting for."

Charlotte nodded, and then glanced out the window. "Yeah. And I've got a family worth fighting for. This plan is painful . . . but it'll keep my mom, Jamie, Soph, and the town safe. And that's what I need right now . . . knowing they'll be safe."

"But what about you? You'll be the only one not safe."

"I haven't been safe for a while, Tooth. But I'll be calmer knowing they are."

"I understand," Tooth murmured. "It's brave of you to think that way."

"Ya'know . . . part of me considers it selfish."

"What? Selfish?"

"Because, like . . . I'm stopping them from living just to keep myself from pulling my own hair out. Part of me . . . I wonder if it would be better to just give myself up to her, and then everyone would be safe. She'd leave everyone alone. Even you guys."

Tooth was silent for a second, and then she accelerated forward and put two fingers on each side of Charlotte's mouth, peering in. Charlotte stared up and made sounds of protest, baffled. Finally, Tooth let go and smoothed the yellow feather on her head back.

"Um . . . why did you do that?" Charlotte asked, perplexed, rubbing the sides of her mouth.

"I was looking at your teeth."

"Up close and personal? Was it necessary? Ugh, I mean, I know you're the Tooth Fairy and all, but I can't feel my lips."

Tooth smiled at her. "Do you know what I _do _as the Tooth Fairy, Charlotte?"

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Collect teeth?"

"Yes. Teeth hold the most important memories of childhood, and when someone needs to remember something, I help them. Which is why I'm not a fan of Father Time's methods for the Bridge of Judgment." She giggled at the shock Charlotte painted on her face. "As the Guardian of Memories, I know how that stuff works. I'm not a fan of it, but I only protect the memories of kids, so I can't do anything."

"But aren't I still considered a kid?"

"Yes. You are." Tooth grew ashamed. "We needed Father Time's help, so I allowed him to perform the examination on you. I hope there's no hard feelings. I just . . . we need to do what's best. For you. And not having to worry about Burgess falls into that category."

"Don't worry about it," Charlotte replied, impressed by Tooth's flexibility to ignore her pride for the greater good, a.k.a. her sanity. "That's brave of you to do. But why did you pry open my mouth to see my teeth?"

"Well, for one thing, I just _looove _teeth," Tooth admitted shyly. "But, also . . . I wanted to see the teeth of someone making a sacrifice for the ones she loves, and the teeth of someone willing to leave behind everything she knows to venture into a world of things she's never seen. And how brave those things really are, if you think about it."

Charlotte blinked, stunned, and realized Tooth was right: she _was _making a sacrifice for the people she loved. And she _was _going into a downright scary world. But they _were_ brave. She was being brave.

"Jeez," Charlotte whispered. "You _are _the Guardian of Memories."

Tooth just laughed in response, spectacular pink eyes flashing with kindness and affection.

The door creaked open, and Jack entered, looking crestfallen.

"How did it go?" Tooth asked gently.

"Well . . . I didn't wake him up, and I said all I wanted to say. I would say success," Jack said, morose.

"I'll say goodbye to everyone once I've packed," Charlotte decided.

Tooth and Jack assisted as Charlotte grabbed everything she thought she would need: a whole bag's worth of shirts, pants/skirts, undergarments, socks, pajamas, and one pair of sneakers. A second bag held her toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, cell phone charger, retainers, copies of her favorite books, her spare cameras, her stuffed lion Ouja (she only slept with him on nights when she was really upset—or really, the past week), other toiletries, a flashlight, her treasured Mickey Mouse pen, a notebook, and ten dollars. She changed out of her pajamas and into a jean skirt, black tights, a thin grey button-up sweater, and a flowery top underneath before putting back on her winter garments.

"Lemme just say bye," she murmured. "I'll be right back."

First was Sophie. Charlotte slunk in and grinned down at the girl. Her tangled blonde hair was seaweed across her pillow, her body discombobulated under the blanket. Charlotte tucked the blanket more snugly under her chin and kissed Sophie's forehead. As she turned to leave, she heard Sophie sigh in her sleep, and watched in panic at the last minute as Sophie rolled out of bed. She jerked to catch her, but when she saw that Sophie was still passed out on the floor, she chuckled and put the blanket on her as she snored on the floor.

Next was Jamie. The boy was asleep, as well, shoulder rising and falling with his breathing. Charlotte crept in and watched him sleep for a minute. "I'm sorry to leave you," she whispered. "But I have to protect you." She kissed his forehead and nudged his stuffed bunny closer as well before exiting.

And then there was her mom. She was out in her bed, perfectly aligned, not a hair out of place. Charlotte frowned at the bags under her mother's eyes. "You work so hard for us, even though you can't be there as much as you want." Her voice was somber and tight. "I love you, Mom. I love you, and Jamie, and Sophie . . . and Dad. Wherever he is. And that's why . . . that's why I have to go. I won't let her hurt you guys. You're all I have, and all I'll ever want." A long kiss was planted on her mother's forehead, and then all that was left was the click of the door shutting.

Jack and Tooth didn't comment on her pinched face. It was taking all she had not to cry. But she could have sworn they exchanged a concerned look behind her back.

After locking the front door again, Jack and Tooth carried Charlotte and her stuff up to the roof. North, Sandy, Bunnymund, and Father Time were waiting, and after Charlotte's bags were loaded up, North asked her, "Ready?"

"Yuh," Charlotte managed through the lump in her throat. "I'm ready."

North nodded at Father Time, and the old spirit of death summoned up mounds of silver sand from his scythe. As the sleigh took the air, the sand stretched to every corner of Burgess, every house, every person, and every animal. It sparkled like snowflakes in the darkness, and floated up and began to form a barrier around the town, like the top of a snow globe.

Once out of the way, Father Time slashed at the air, and the sand shone and twinkled, radiating silver and white. And then it withered away, and Charlotte saw that time was indeed frozen: some people, who were leaving their house for work, were halted mid-step to their cars; the local paperboy was stuck in the middle of the road; stray cats, dogs, mice, and raccoons were frozen in the middle of excavating trash cans for breakfast; objects being moved by nature were stuck. But most of all, it was the silence. Burgess, a happy, jolly town that hummed with activity, was still and completely devout of sound. There was no wind, no breath, no sign of an invisible heartbeat. It was like her town, her birthplace, her home, was dead.

That was what did it. Charlotte wretched herself away from the terrible sight and cried into her gloves. _Why does it have to be this way? This can't be happening. I don't . . . I can't . . . no . . . what have I done?_

A cold arm wrapped around her shoulders: Jack, eyes full of pity and worry. "C'mere," he mumbled. "I'll make sure you can't watch."

And so she did. Charlotte inched into Jack's open arms and pressed her face into his shoulder, tears leaking out as her heart ached. A hand was rubbing her back; she heard Jack whisper, "Yeah, Sandy, good idea." A feathery, tiny hand took hers, and Charlotte estimated it was Tooth.

As she flew away from her frozen, silent home, Charlotte found the positives of being Second-Sighted outweighing the negatives. Because if she could see these dedicated, wonderful Guardians, then she was a unique, strange kind of blessed.


	15. Worlds Beyond

**Chapter 15: Worlds Beyond**

Charlotte couldn't remember the ride back to the North Pole.

Fragments were there, like the biting winter air, the sound of North's reins slapping the sleigh, and the feeling of Jack's arm curled around her shoulders in an attempt at comfort. Otherwise, everything was foggy, like a mirror after a hot shower. Awareness jolted within her when they docked back into a cavern of ice that tunneled under the Pole and led to the original port for the sleigh and reindeer.

Yetis unhooked the reindeer, whose snorts had their breath billowing out of their nostrils due to the tundra environment. The Guardians climbed out of the sleigh, but Jack offered his hands to Charlotte. "Ya need help, firecracker?" His voice was soft, and the nickname finally woke Charlotte up.

"Buh—yeah, I'd like h-help, yeah . . ."

Jack helped her climb out, and Charlotte almost buckled—her legs were near numb. Jack's hands were under her armpits instantly, keeping her up. "It's okay, it's okay, I've gotcha . . ." he murmured. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"N-Naw," Charlotte mumbled. "Got it. Show me the way . . . please."

Jack held her elbow as he led her through a doorway and into the Toy Room. "Follo me," North commanded quietly. Charlotte's bags were clutched in his enormous hands like gumballs. He showed her and Jack down a long corridor and opened a door at the end.

Charlotte vaguely knew it was a guest room, but it appeared more like a hotel room decorated for Christmas. The carpeting was scarlet and the walls white, a baby Christmas tree in the corner. The bed was hidden under a thick green comforter and fuzzy pillows. A photo of a man and a woman hung on the wall, and even in her sluggish state, Charlotte could notice North trying very hard to not look at it.

Jack coaxed her shoes off and her body into the bed. She nearly vanished under the covers and sheets, but her face and curls poked out of the green. He then plucked her glasses off and North said, "Try to sleep, Charlotte. Rest vill do you good."

The two Guardians went to leave, but something sparked in Charlotte, causing her to sit up and croak, "Wait." Jack and North's gazes were on her in a snap. "Could I . . . in my bigger bag . . . can one of you give me Ouja? My lion?"

Jack rooted through the bag's contents with trepidation until he found the lion, and Charlotte fell back upon the bed when it was in her hands, eyes slammed shut.

"'Night, firecracker," Jack whispered, and then he closed the door, leaving the girl in darkness.

When Jack and North rejoined the other Guardians by the Globe, the somber mood was practically strangling them. To see someone they knew as so fiery and stubborn destroyed and child-like was taking a toll.

"We've gotta find this Mother Nature," Jack finally declared, breaking the silence like glass. "I'm sick of seeing her hurt Charlotte."

"Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I agree with Frostbite," Bunnymund said with a few nods. "At this point, we're just not doin' our job well. A child is faced with a _real _supernatural problem, and we can't even find the bloody wench!"

"Shh!" North said, a meaty finger to his lips. "She is sleeping."

"Sorry."

"Maybe we can find someone who _does _know where Mother Nature resides," Tooth piped. "There has to be someone. Maybe—Manny!" she cried suddenly, pointing up.

The Guardians followed her hand until they saw the sheen of misty moonlight descending into the room. The full moon hung above their heads, but they could feel the presence in the room. It resonated off the walls and vibrated against the floorboards.

The moonlight drifted down to the five Guardians, and the floor swiveled open, a platform rising up. On it was a hunk of blue jewel, very dense, with a _G _carved into it.

"Manny!" North breathed. "He vill show us the vay."

"Umm . . . why have I never seen that before?" Jack asked, slightly annoyed yet wary.

"It is the Stone of MiM," North explained, scratching his beard. "He uses it sometimes to communicate. He has idea!"

The moonlight bounced off the stone and sent shimmers to the ground. An image contorted until it was clear: the shadowy profile of a woman, leaves whirling around her.

"Mother Nature, I'll presume," Bunnymund said.

The image changed: a muscular, male figure with wings. There was a pause as the Guardians struggled to determine who it was, and then North let out a cry of outrage. "Vhat! No! Manny!" He glared up at the moon. "Not him! Anyvone but him!"

"Mates, I just got _maja _déjà vu," Bunnymund muttered.

"Wha?" Jack looked to Sandy, confused. "Manny didn't just pick a new Guardian, did he?"

"No, Manny is simply proposing a plan." Tooth winced. "But he really didn't pick a good way to start."

"Who _is _that?" Jack demanded.

"_Cupid," _North snarled, angrier than Jack had ever seen him. "Curses, Manny, vhy _him_?"

Sandy made a motion with his sand to Jack that they would explain later.

The image shifted again: the figure of a slim woman, with smaller figures at her feet.

"Oh my!" Tooth gasped.

"What now?" Jack grumbled.

"Lady Luck and the Leprechauns!" she replied, suddenly frowning with worry. "They're a dangerous bunch. Why would Manny—?"

The image changed, for what the Guardians prayed for the last time. The figure of a bird batting its wings was seen, with a tiny person on its back. For the first time, the Guardians were struck dumb. No one said anything until Jack demanded to know the figure's identity.

"It's . . ." North swallowed. "It's Katherine."

**=!=!=!=!=!=!**

Charlotte was in one of the deepest sleeps of her life. She was dreaming, too—she was sitting on wet rocks, the roar of the waterfall in her ears. She was in her happy place: Angel Falls in Venezuela, the tallest waterfall in the world. It was the one place in the world she desperately wanted to visit, but the family financial problems held her back. So she liked to imagine herself there in times of trouble—the fact that she was dreaming about it wasn't a surprise at all.

The water thundered by her dangling feet. She was proud of herself for imagining herself barefoot this time. The sky was silken sapphires sewn together, the clouds like cotton balls stretched wide. The sun was a prickpoint of radiance in the sky, shining down happily.

_What a relief, _she thought. _I owe Sandy huge for this._

The contentment went on for a long, peaceful time, and Charlotte was happy. To be separated from Mother Nature was an amazing thing, and it felt like an alien thing. Dream Charlotte felt a frown tug at the ends of her lips. Mother Nature acted like she had known Charlotte for a long while, but that feeling obviously wasn't reciprocated. Just how long had they been distantly connected?

She decided she didn't want to think about Mother Nature while she was dreaming of Angel Falls. It wasn't fair to Sandy, who was trying to relieve her of reality, not remind her of it. So Charlotte pulled down her imaginary sunhat and smiled at the rush of the waterfall next to her.

The moment was interrupted as the sunny sky was suddenly overtaken with storm clouds. Charlotte gasped as wind began to howl and rain pounded down. She grasped desperately at the ground as the wind picked her up like a baby and swirled her into the air, and then she started to fall down, down, down with her beloved waterfall, the air whooshing through her ears. Charlotte's throat closed as she plunged head-first into the furious water—

_Do you have her? What! Dammit, Nightmare King! NO! _

Bloodshot brown eyes shot open as Charlotte sat up in bed with a loud gasp, clutching her thundering heart. Her breath was squeezing in and out of her mouth through gnashed teeth, making a raspy whistle pierce the dark room she inhabited.

Charlotte was too stunned to properly piece together what had just happened. Her favorite dream had been transformed into a nightmare, and she had a pretty good hunch on who was responsible for it. But who had spoken to her in the middle? There had been two voices, too distorted for her to make it out. She grimly guessed Mother Nature was one of them. _Since those two seem to be buddy-buddy now . . ._

Charlotte got out of the bed, squinting into the gloom. She spotted her bags on the floor and noticed Ouja in her arms, relaxing a bit and realizing she was at the North Pole. She touched the doorknob, cold and glinting, and entered into the hallway, creeping down into the Toy Room.

The Guardians were gathered around the Globe, looking tense and concerned. Tooth was wringing her hands and talking quietly but quickly to her Mini-Fairies. Bunnymund and Sandy were playing some sort of game with Easter egg shells. North was talking to a group of elves. And then there was Jack, balanced on top of his staff, starting out the windows.

"Guys?" Her voice was crackly.

All five of them jumped, gazes on her instantly.

"Char!" Jack leapt to stand before her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Charlotte answered honestly. "I guess I just needed some sleep. Yesterday was . . . pretty hectic."

"Agreed," North said. "But ve have news! Manny has spoken."

Charlotte's brow furrowed. "Manny? Oh, the Man in the Moon, right."

"You know not of Manny?"

"I . . . I kinda do. A little."

"It is long story," North explained. "Too long for limited time. But basic rundown: Manny is our leader. He chooses Guardians and guides us in our time of need. Like now!"

"Ooo-kay. So what'd he say?"

"He has given us three possible allies for upcoming conflict," North said, holding up three fingers. "Ve vill travel to them and ask for aid. Many predicts a var."

"Mother Nature _did _declare it, after all," Tooth supplied.

"Manny believes these spirits can help us and offer proper advice," North said. "So, vhen you are all packed, ve are off!"

"Whoa whoa whoa—me?" Charlotte demanded, pushing her hair back. "Where are we even going? This is really war?"

"Mother Nature's thrown an obvious gauntlet," Bunnymund cut in. "Her alone's a problem. But she's got the combined powers of Pitch and the Elemental Sisters. She's got power over almost every corner of the planet—the sea, sky, and earth. But not all da power, and that's where our three new allies come in. Besides, they're not Guardians—they're defenders of other mystical aspects. If we can't get the job done in time of your birthday, well . . . at least they will. In theory."

Charlotte couldn't help but gulp at Bunnymund's last two words. "Okay, well . . . where are we going?"

"First, to Carrauntoohil, in Ireland," North said. "Then, to Paris, France; and then to Siberia!"

"Lady Lucia Adh mór and her army of Leprechauns; C. Valentino IV and the C.H.E.R.U.B.s; and Mother Goose and the wizard Ombric Shalazar," Tooth clarified.

Charlotte's head spun, but she nodded anyway. "Okay. Okay, this is good. We have a plan. We have a plan!"

"Ve leave tonight!" North proclaimed, pounding the air with a fist.

The prospect of the adventure filled Charlotte's heart with hope. This was going to be amazing. She was going to explore the world and see legendary figures of folklore! They had a chance against Mother Nature!

A stone propped up on a platform suddenly began to glow. Moonlight swung down in a blast and bang and swirled around Charlotte's hands. Her eyes widened as something materialized—a handle?

As the mist died away, Charlotte was astounded to see she was holding the very same sword from her test with Father Time. The blade, with a wicked edge of sharpness, glittered with purple and white stones in sync with the hilt.

"That's a sword from MiM!" Bunnymund exclaimed.

"He has given you a gift," North realized with a blooming smile. "A magic sword!"

The awe on the faces of the Guardians was enough to make Charlotte crack a grin. "I guess Mother Nature has more to look out for than she thought," she joked weakly.

But something was wrong. Charlotte had just turned to Jack to see anger flicker in his eyes. Anger—and _jealousy. _What was wrong with Jack?

But the next second—a moment Charlotte was going to use to question Jack's change in mood— was interrupted by the deep, wolfish laughter that was emanating from the darkest corner of the room, slithering around the previously joyous scene and squeezing it like a snake.


	16. Blast Off!

**Chapter 16: Blast Off! **

"Vho's there? Show yourself!" North demanded.

The Guardians pulled their weapons out and formed an arc in front of Charlotte. She could only peek under North's rigid arm to watch a dark figure emerge from the darkness that was fuming on the other side of the room.

All six of them were shocked to see a young man appear from the gloom. His hair was silky ink and styled to perfection, streaks of red, white, and orange blaringly bright under a bandanna. He wore a black leather vest, a white V-neck, ripped jeans, fingerless brown gloves, and boots that Charlotte was sure were made of the skin of an exotic yet extinct animal. His eyes were a vibrant, juicy orange, gleaming with trickery. Tangled around his left wrist was a chain, the two ends melting into his skin on his palm and forming a bright symbol across his gloved hand.

"_Hola!" _the young man cried, wiggling his fingers in a coy wave.

Charlotte saw Bunnymund blink in confusion and Sandy raise his eyebrows. Even she hadn't been anticipating the stranger to be friendly.

"Hello," Tooth stated with caution. "Who are you, young man?"

"That's a hard question to answer," the stranger said, Spanish accent thick. "I don't remember who I used to be. Perhaps I had a different name back then. But apparently, my new name is Sam Hain."

There was a moment of bafflement. But then Sandy began to jingle and wave his arms around, images of candy, witch hats, and pumpkins floating above his head.

"Ohh!" North said, lowering his sword. "A new Spirit of Halloveen! I should have known. My apologies, Sam, I did not recognize the name at first."

Charlotte squished through North and Sandy to be seen. "Wait. A _new _spirit?"

Sam gasped and held his cheeks in delight. "Dios mío! You can see me?"

"Let me explain, Charlotte," Tooth said, sheathing her rainbow dagger. "Guardians survive and remain immortal through the belief of children—as long as we're believed in, we continue living. But spirits are a different story. Their lifespan is elongated significantly, but because they're only spirits, they eventually fade out with age. They're not immortal. The previous Spirit of Halloween must have passed, and a new one was chosen. The name remains the same for the Spirit of Halloween: Sam Hain."

"Wooow! Cool!" Sam gushed. "But how can you see me?" he asked Charlotte. "I've been around for days now and no one can hear or see me!"

"You need to be believed in by humans, normally," Charlotte replied, treading carefully on the information. "But I'm Second-Sighted—I can see you without having to believe in you."

"_Cool!" _Sam gushed. "Charlotte, right? How wonderful to meet you! And you all!" he added, beaming at North. "You're Guardians! The Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, and Jack Frost!"

"Very good, my young friend," North said warmly. "You kno your stuff! But vhy are you here? How did you get _in _here?"

"It wasn't hard," Sam replied, hands deep in his pockets. "Your _ganados _were very easy to trick with some jawbreakers."

"Beasts," Tooth translated for North, not appearing amused.

"Curses!" North said under his breath. "Sweets: their one veakness."

"Anyway," Sam continued. "I wanted to stop in and introduce myself to my fellow Guardians!"

There was a long patch of awkward silence.

"'Fellow'?" Bunnymund asked flatly.

"Well . . . yeah!" Sam's grin teetered. "I've got the powers, the holiday—I'm totally Guardian material! I'd love to be one. It's why I've been searching for the North Pole for days now!"

Sandy puffed his cheeks out and ogled the ceiling nervously. Tooth winced and started to wring her hands again. Bunnymund stared at the floor and tapped his foot. Jack and Charlotte exchanged a glance.

"_Buuummmm," _North tried, looking panicked. He glanced around at the other Guardians for help, but they were all distracted. "Listen, Sam," he said, forcing a smile. "The thing about Guardians . . . is that they are _chosen. _You cannot volunteer—the Man in the Moon must pick you. And you . . . vere not picked."

Sam frowned. "Well, okay. I'll just go to this 'Man in the Moon' and ask him to choose me."

"That is not point," North argued gently. "You cannot go and ask to be Guardian. MiM must choose you. I am sorry, Sam, but you cannot be Guardian."

Sam backed away, his face darkening in disappointment. His hands curled into fists as he noticeably gritted his teeth and scowled.

_Something's . . . changed within him, _Charlotte realized as the room's atmosphere changed from jolly to dangerous.

Sam's eyes flashed bright orange with anger and then rested on her face. "Then why can she be here?" he spit. "She doesn't have any powers! She's not a Guardian!"

"Hey, whoa whoa," Charlotte said, walking forward to stand before Sam. "I may not be a Guardian, but I've got important business here, unlike you. So unless you need directions out of here, I suggest you leave."

The chain around Sam's wrist began to vibrate. Air whooshed around the room, blowing harshly at Charlotte's cheeks. His eyes glowed like embers in the fireplace a few feet away.

"This isn't fair," he said lowly. "I _deserve _to be a Guardian! More than you fools! It's what I was made for! This isn't fair! You can't just turn me away!"

"I _don't care _what you think you deserve!" Charlotte exploded, fuming. She squeezed the handle of her sword. "What you _deserve _is my fist in your face! Don't you dare disgrace the Guardians, especially in front of me! Now quit your little tantrum and leave, before I kick you out myself!"

In retrospect, Charlotte knew she shouldn't have yelled. It had been one of those times when her infamous temper had just gotten the better of her—insulting the Guardians was something she _wasn't _going to hear.

"_I'll remember this," _Sam growled, voice otherworldly. _"I won't forget this disrespect! I won't forget!"_

He waved his hand, and a gigantic pumpkin appeared from purple smoke. Its eyes, nose, and mouth were jagged, carved in, and angry. It trembled and glared at the Guardians and Charlotte before taking a deep breath.

"Hit da deck!" Bunnymund shouted.

There was a _BANG _and a blast of heat as Charlotte threw herself to the floorboards. A fireball shot from the pumpkin's mouth and zoomed overhead, crashing into something behind her. Purple smoke was everywhere that she could see as she raised her eyes slowly. Rising, she fanned the smoke away and coughed as North cried out, "Is everyone okay?!"

The smoke dissolved enough for her to make out the Guardians getting up from the floor. Sandy formed sand fans and blew the smoke away. Sam and the pumpkin were gone.

Charlotte rubbed her head and peered at the spot where Sam had been standing apprehensively. It was like he had two different sides to him: one second he'd been happy, and then furious and violent. Sam was powerful, that was sure—that pumpkin was evidence of it. But why had being denied Guardianship been so disastrous for him?

"Since when are the Halloween spirits so angry?" Tooth questioned, furrowing her brow.

"They're normally not," Bunnymund responded. "That bloke was a ticking time bomb."

The fireball had smashed through the wall and opened a hole, letting into freezing North Pole air and snow. Charlotte was convinced the South Pole could hear the curses North was spluttering and shouting.

"I guess I have to work on my handling of confrontations," she admitted.

=!=!=!=!=!=!

Hours afterward were dedicated to preparation for the journey.

The real problem was figuring out how the Guardians were going to balance their normal duties while traveling to Ireland, France, and Siberia. For Bunnymund and Jack, there wasn't much to worry about—Easter was far off and all was well in the world for its dose of winter. But concern lay on how the Mini-Fairies would handle collecting teeth by themselves, how dreams would be delivered properly during travel, and how the whole quest could be completed before Christmas, which was only eight days away.

The Christmas conflict was solved sooner than Charlotte had been anticipating. The decision was made for the journey straight to Ireland to happen via snowglobe, but only that and the rush back to the North Pole on Christmas Eve would be involved with snowglobes. North was running low and needed to make more, a process that took a few days. The trip from Ireland to France and France to Siberia would be through the sleigh.

Sandy assured them that he would be able to deliver dreams while on the road, after the subject was brought up. It didn't matter where he was—as long as dreamsand was released over a town, the rest of the job would be done on its own. As for Tooth, the decision to leave the Palace was a slightly reluctant one.

"Of course, I want to come," she lamented that afternoon to Charlotte as the girl packed. "But I'm just so worried about the teeth and my fairies! I have full confidence in their abilities, don't get me wrong, but they're so used to me being there in control, and a change-up in the process could lead to an undesired, unpredicted, unfortunate outcome! I can communicate with them telepathically, but I'll be a chatterbox the whole time."

It was then that Charlotte took note of how twitchy Tooth was—even as she spoke, her eye twitched, and random parts of her body would contort as well, like her fingers, neck, lips, and shoulders.

"I don't mind if you're chatty about sectors and molars," Charlotte declared. "Quite honestly, you do what _you _feel is right, Tooth. You've already helped me so much. I'll respect anything you decide."

"Agghh!" Tooth hissed, hugging herself so tightly her feathers wrinkled. "This is such a hard decision! I'm split between being a Guardian and . . . being a Guardian!"

"Tooth!" Charlotte took the tiny, plumed hands in her own fingers. "Please don't stress about this. It's okay. I'd love for you to come, but you have duties elsewhere, and I understand that. Well, actually, I don't, now that I think about it," she went on thoughtfully. "I don't understand at all what it means to be the Tooth Fairy. But I do know it's a difficult job, and I don't want you losing sleep _and _feathers over this decision, because whatever you do is fine with me."

Tooth smiled gratefully at her and nodded, hand twitching a little (Charlotte guessed Tooth had the urge to peek into her mouth and check on her teeth but was resisting to not spoil the moment). "Thank you, Charlotte, that means a lot. I'll keep thinking."

"Alright good." Charlotte smiled back and zipped her bag closed. "Okay! I'm all packed." A crease formed in-between her eyebrows. "Have you seen Jack lately?"

"No, I haven't seen him since the incident with Sam this morning. Why?"

"I dunno. It just suddenly occurred to me that he wasn't here . . . and how weird it feels."

"Well, I don't think he has to bring anything for the journey, so he's probably floating around somewhere," Tooth supplied.

"True. Wanna go look for him with me?"

"No thank you, I'm going to think about whether I'm going or not some more. I'll see you later, though! Bye Charlotte!"

With a pearly white grin, Tooth zipped out of the guest room, leaving Charlotte with her own smile. She never thought she'd say it, but the Tooth Fairy was becoming a very good friend to her.

It suddenly struck Charlotte about how she was actually friends with the Guardians. Not just Tooth and Jack—all five of them. She'd made more friends in the past week than she had her whole life, and it felt wonderful. The thought of her other friends though—Serena, Jamie, Sophie, her mother—frozen in time back in Burgess rocked her back into reality. She had a mission, and it was one she had to complete before her birthday, or else it was all for nothing.

A lump lodged itself in Charlotte's throat. The thought of the Guardians not being her Guardians anymore was dreadful. Who else could she depend on for protection against Mother Nature: Cupid? The other spirits of the world didn't have any reason to help her. And what would happen if they didn't get any more help? She couldn't let the Guardians go into a war they were bound to lose.

But how else was she going to combat the controller of the elements and weather?

Charlotte shook her head, as if the action would loosen the thoughts from her mind like screws from a block of wood. Maybe she could talk to someone about this. Someone who could quell her fear of self-sacrifice and hopeless situations in the near future.

Her train of thought halted at one person: the Winter Spirit.

And before she was aware of it, Charlotte was out the door and into the heart of the Toy Room, glancing around for the spark of white hair and blue hoodie. But he wasn't there: not messing with the Yetis as they hurriedly constructed toys; not floating around the Globe that chronicled the believing children of the world; not even laughing at Phil, who had just accidentally spilled pink paint onto a bow-tied teddy bear and was making his frustration known to his fellow workers.

Where was he? Where else could he be?

A few doors down, North emerged from a room, dressed in a black-cuffed winter coat and matching hat. Charlotte waved him down and quizzed him on where Jack could be.

"Not in here?" North asked, surprised. "Try Observation Deck. Is green striped door over there."

And so Charlotte did. She opened the door, only to find the open entrance of an elevator. Controlling the machine was a tiny elf with glasses and a goofy smile. He pointed up, to which Charlotte nodded, a little uncertain. She boarded the elevator and the elf released a crazed laugh as he pulled a lever.

_ZOOM! _Up they raced, like the bottom of the elevator was sporting rockets. Charlotte grasped the handlebar for dear life as he stomach had a wrestling match with her lungs. Then the elevator stopped with an uneasy, unoiled squeak and creak. The elevator door swung open, and the elf gestured her forward with a friendly smile and a sound that she assumed to be a farewell.

The Observation Deck was a cramped, circular room with windows as walls and a roof, allowing Charlotte to see out into the tundra and over the mountain that held the North Pole. The sky was blank and opaque as it snowed, and a telescope was positioned in the center on the floor, facing outward and silver.

Jack leaned against the wall across from Charlotte, hands in his hoodie pocket, staff leaning next to him. He was staring out into the snow with dim blue eyes, mouth curved into a pout. The Deck's frosty temperature sent chills up Charlotte's spine, but she stepped forward anyway, attempting a cordial smile.

"Jack? There you are!"

The Winter Spirit's eyes shot to her, still dull and agitated. "Hey."

"Well, someone doesn't sound happy at all," she said, chuckling with unease. "I've been looking all over the Pole for you. You okay?"

"Yeah." Jack curled into himself, glaring outside. "Fine."

Charlotte frowned, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You don't _sound _fine." _Good observation, Charlotte. Good thing you're in the freaking Observation Deck. _"What's wrong?"

"_Nothing," _Jack snapped. "I'm really fine. Just wanna be alone."

Charlotte's temper flared up. "No you're not, you angry little snow cone! I didn't do anything to you. What's with the attitude?"

"I—I just—" Jack shook his head. "Why did he talk to you?" he demanded suddenly.

"Who's 'he'?"

"The Man in the Moon! He's never talked to me." Jack released a frustrated breath, making the coldness ebb with his altering emotions. "In the three hundred years I've been Jack Frost, he's only spoken to me once. When he told me my name. Otherwise, it's been zip. And all I've ever wanted is for him to talk to me, to tell me why I'm here." He looked at her, eyes dull again. "But . . . you're not a Guardian. And he gave you a sword. I don't mean to insult you. I just . . ." He heaved a sigh as heavy as the mountain they stood on. "Three hundred years of silence can get to you sometimes."

Charlotte waited for the rage to bubble up inside her, but was shocked to find none. Just pity for the depressed Winter Spirit before her. She hadn't known about Jack's isolation from his own creator. The other Guardians hadn't spoken of any silence. Was Jack the only one excluded from Manny's guidance? She immediately thought of the heartbroken face of Sam, who had just been brought into the mystical world, but didn't have a clue of where to go.

He was right. She wasn't a Guardian. She wasn't anything close.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte said quietly. "I didn't know."

"S'okay. I'm sorry for lashing out. And for avoiding you."

"You were avoiding me?"

"If I wasn't, I would've been down there with you."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry this is the situation . . . but I can't do anything about it. Besides, he just gave me a sword. He didn't bring me back to life or the power over the winter weather."

"Give it time," Jack said, sullen. "He's probably figuring out how to fit it into his busy schedule."

Charlotte furrowed her brow. "Jack. MiM giving me a sword just means he doesn't want me to die. I'm not special to him. But you're the Guardian of Fun. _His _Guardian of Fun. Those three hundred years of silence probably said more than three hundred years of him being chatty ever will."

"Yeah, that he hates me."

"No! That you're strong. You didn't need guidance or advice. You handled everything on your own. And look at your power, your strength. For God's sake, you're Jamie's hero!"

Jack perked at the mention of the little boy, eyes sliding to meet Charlotte's.

"MiM may be silent," she said, "but he's wise. He made you Jack Frost because you deserve to be here, with the Guardians. He brought the Guardians to you because this is where you're meant to be. Those years of loneliness have taught you the important of this family you have now, haven't they?" Charlotte paused. "Just ask yourself: who would you be today without those three hundred years of silence?"

Jack was quiet, pondering. Then he stood upright and nodded at her with a tiny grin. "Thanks, Char. That's just what I needed: a firecracker screaming at me."

Charlotte smiled back. "Everyone needs it once in a while."

=!=!=!=!=!=!

Hours later, Charlotte was back in North's sleigh, to the right of Bunnymund, who looked anything but excited.

"This is exciting!" North encouraged. "Adventure for the Guardians once again!"

"Yeah, adventa," Bunnymund grumbled. "Just wish it wasn't happenin' in this death trap."

In front of Charlotte sat Tooth, five Mini-Fairies squeaking in her face. A sixth was tweeting with Jack; it was the Mini-Fairy with one blue eye and one pink eye, apparently named Baby Tooth.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Tooth," Charlotte told her, pulling her coat closer with a shiver.

"I suppose I just realized how important it was that I was here—Los Angeles, Mandibular canine!" she barked suddenly at a Mini-Fairy. "It just felt right to come," she continued warmly. "You're still under our protection as a sixteen year old, and it'll be that way until . . ."

"Until January second," Charlotte finished with a hollow voice. "Hopefully, this doesn't even last until Christmas Eve."

"Only one vay to find out, ja?" North asked, seemingly unaffected by the deadline.

Charlotte nodded and clutched the handle of her sword, which was protruding from a sheath that hung from a belt. The belt and sheath were a gift from North, who, as a swordsman himself, was an expert on proper weapon management.

Jack's mood had improved significantly since the moment in the Observation Deck. He was laughing with Sandy, who was making sand images of a cat and a mouse chasing each other. Charlotte hoped his jealousy over MiM's gift would fade entirely so that their relationship could really go back to normal.

The guilt that he had unintentionally caused her was still present in her heart. It had doubled the guilt she had already from the last memory from her exam with Father Time, and now her whole organ system was riddled with regret and uncertainty. She prayed it would go away in due time, and that her terrible memory would never have to be brought up to the Guardians.

She was sure they would despise her if they ever found out.

"Is everyone ready?" North asked, glee thrumming in his tone.

"As ready as I'll eva be," Bunnymund moaned, pulling his ears.

"Ready North—SOFIA, BULGARIA, MAXILLARY SECOND MOLAR!" Tooth shouted.

"Ready! Let's see what this rickety old thing can do!" Jack joined in eagerly.

Sandy jingled and gave two thumbs up.

The Guardians looked at her.

"Ready," Charlotte declared, not entirely aware if she really was.

"Then . . . ve . . . BLAST OFF!"

And down the icy slide they went, the call of adventure and home ringing in Charlotte's ears.


	17. Promises of the Boogeyman

**Chapter 17: Promises of the Boogeyman**

Pitch Black was bored.

Mother Nature's realm, while beautiful with its plants (although he could have sworn there was a dark aura emanating from them somehow), was scarce in terms of entertainment. Mother Nature stayed cooped up in her private room, with that strange mirror of hers. The Nightmare King had hoped the Sisters could occupy him for some time, but they were busy as well with their personal tasks of keeping tabs on the elemental forces of the world.

_Funny, _Pitch thought. _The first time in ages I'm surrounding by people, and I'm still ignored._

At least, until that night.

He was alone in Mother Nature's flower garden, sitting under a massive tree that seemed to dissolve into the dark sky. Why he had chosen the spot, he wasn't sure. The dark had always been his friend—his _only _friend. Mind drifting, Pitch swirled some Nightmare Sand around his hand, making a blossoming flower. With his opposite hand, he created a tiny, graceful butterfly, willing it to land on a petal and flap its wings.

_She always liked these little creatures. _

Pushing the thought away, he had begun pondering about why Mother Nature had chosen to establish her realm in the U.S. when footfalls rustled before him.

It was Nixie, the Sister of Water. Her face was eclipsed by the sinking sun, but he could make out her unkempt hair and muscled arms. "Nightmare King," she said quietly.

Pitch glanced up, unimpressed. "Greetings, Sister."

"My apologies for interrupting your moment of serenity."

"It's not necessary. It wasn't serenity you interrupted."

"Oh? Then what was I—"

"You wanted something?" Pitch cut in, a knife against butter.

Nixie nodded, all business again. He could make out her eyes now—a cold blue, two beady ignitions of freezing water. "So I take it you are not busy?"

Pitch sighed. "Not particularly." A malicious grin brightened his face. "I'm giving the children of the world a little breather, I suppose."

"Well . . ." Nixie bent down, voice hushed. "How would you like to exclude just one child from that?"

"Pardon?" Pitch said.

"Come with me and do me a favor. And I can offer you certain information on a certain someone from your past life," Nixie said, lips curling up.

Pitch felt something in him quicken its pace, like rusty gears starting up again. "Like whom?" he challenged, trying to not let his urgency seep into his tone.

Nixie crooked a finger at him. "Follow and discover, Nightmare King."

And so he did. But he wasn't happy about it.

=!=!=!=!=!=!=!

Nixie led him through Mother Nature's Realm, through paths of forest, different types of trees, and outrageously constructed stone monuments that depicted images he didn't care enough for to examine. He glided silently behind Nixie, picking up an off feeling, but not about his situation—about the world he was residing in.

_Mother's Realm feels so . . . dark. So very deliciously dark. What is happening here?_

For the time being, Pitch selected not to bring up the darkness he detected. _One mystery at a time._

They finally came to a stone cave, boarded up by a thick wall of water. Nixie created an entryway with a wave of her hand, and when she and Pitch were safely inside, the opening closed back up with a sizzle. "Boiling," she told him. "Never try to trespass on a Water Spirit."

"What useful information," he responded.

They delved deeper into the cave. It got more and more narrow with every step, but Pitch was immune to claustrophobia. In fact, the closing-in walls felt sweet—it reminded him of his hole under the bed back in Burgess.

"This, Pitch, is my little hideaway."

They emerged from the stony corridor and into a watery one. The walls of the tunnel were water, and sea creatures swam over his head, blinking at him with gargantuan eyes. Pitch was astounded to stroll through the tunnel, the walls of water intact. He poked a finger in—real water, no glass.

Exiting the tunnel, Pitch found his feet brisking into cool liquid. Beautiful turquoise water stretched out as far as he could squint, and multicolored bridges jutted out haphazardly from a main pavilion in the center of the chamber. As Pitch and Nixie crossed one of the bridges to the pavilion, he asked, "What are they made of?"

"Coral, kinds extracted from every sea on Earth," Nixie said simply.

In the middle of the pavilion was an extravagant fountain, splurting sparkling water onto the coral bridges. Pitch noticed how the bridges went into the walls, leading the water, and shot Nixie a look full of question marks.

"The bridges act as pathways leading pure water to different parts of the human world," the Sister of the Water explained. She gestured up to the jewel-encrusted fountain. "This is my Fountain of Purity. It is directly linked to my powers and to my heart. Water is created in the Fountain and then dispersed to the human world—rivers, ponds, streams, oceans. It's all linked to this one chamber."

"Fascinating," Pitch said, genuine. "All these years . . . I never even knew your system."

"Most don't know. It is not exactly their business, anyway."

"Well, moving on from the spectacle," Pitch said, stern once more. "You had a deal?"

"Ah yes." Nixie smiled at him. "I have a plan to end this whole 'Second-Sighted One' fiasco, and I need your help."

"I'm listening."

"You're smart to." Nixie scooped some water up from the sea under them and toyed with it as it hovered above her palm. "When I went to claim her as my own victim a week ago, I was thwarted by the Guardians. But before they could do anything, I marked the girl with a very special symbol." The water swirled and formed a symbol: two half circles curling around two dots. "Do you know what symbol this is, Nightmare King?"

Pitch thought back through the hundreds of years to recognize the symbol, but came up blank. "I'm afraid I don't."

"It's a fairly recently known marking. It's the Mark of Despair, created by the hands of the Wishing Star."

Pitch's eyes widened. "The Wishing Star?"

"The very same." Gloom settled in over Nixie's face. "She's a very good friend of mine. We share a hatred for humans—or at least, we used to. She created the Mark of Despair as a way to combat selfish humans who made greedy wishes."

"What . . . what does it do?" Pitch asked.

"When activated, the Mark will cause incredible pain to whoever wears it. Pain that, if gone untreated or undone, could be fatal."

The veins in Pitch's forehead twitched. "Does Mother Nature truly wish to kill the girl?"

"No." Nixie scowled. "She's made it particularly clear that she wants the brat brought here alive. Buuuuut, she said it would be fine if she arrived harmed. It's so strange though . . ." Her voice dropped. "There are some times when Mother loves to bring anguish to this girl. But other times when she's actually _protective _of her. Mother wants the girl here desperately, but she won't say why. Just that she 'needs her.'"

Pitch frowned, pensive. "Curious indeed. But what does this Mark have to do with me?"

"Mother . . . she's losing her mind over this girl. So, it is my plan to just eliminate her, but not by my own hands."

"So by mine?"

"Indirectly."

Pitch shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable.

"You will go into her dreams," Nixie said, "and I will activate the Mark. The pain kills her, Mother finds out and lets go of this silly chase, and things go back to normal." She noticed the lack of enthusiasm on his face and raised an eyebrow. "Do not tell me the Nightmare King doesn't want to give a good scare."

"It's not that . . . I don't want to kill the girl."

"Since when are you antagonistic to murder? You turn children into Fearlings so much, you have an army."

"There's a difference. They're still alive as a Fearling—their souls and hearts are just shrouded. But I've never killed in cold blood."

"If my memory serves me loyally," Nixie retorted with annoyance, "you were perfectly prepared to kill the Last Light all those months ago."

Pitch perked at the mention of Jamie and seemed to grow greyer. "That was a lapse in judgment. I was power-hungry then, thirsting for blood and belief. Scaring to torture will always be my joy. But I refuse to kill. Especially a child."

"Oh, _fine_," Nixie snapped, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "I'll do it. Just find her dream. She should be asleep now—it's night in her little town."

Mouth twisted, Pitch summoned up his black sand and formed a tiny Nightmare. As it neighed and reared its head, Pitch murmured to it, and then it erupted into particles that started to whirl around Pitch's head.

"What are you—?" Nixie stammered.

"Just getting a view," Pitch responded.

In the sand that whirred around his head, Pitch could see an image breaking through; soon enough, he had a clear view of a dark bedroom. Through his eclipse-like eyes, Pitch saw a figure in the bed. Brown curls peeped up from the pillow, and they clutched a toy, a stuffed lion.

"Found her."

Pitch focused in on pushed the whirling cyclone of sand out, so that Nixie was in the circle with him. Hair blowing back like a cape, Nixie nodded at the image of Charlotte in the sand and unwrapped the bandaging from her left hand, exposing the Mark of Despair she had just described to him.

"You have the Mark too?" he shouted above the roar of the cyclone.

Without answering him, she put two fingers on the two dots of the Mark. The Mark shone white against Nixie's cringing face, and in the image, Charlotte's own left hand shone purplish in the darkness. The Second-Sighted One whimpered in her sleep, furrowing her brow and clutching her toy tighter.

"Just a little longer!" Nixie yelled.

But then Pitch felt it—the powerful, looming presence close to the chamber. _Oh no. _Thinking quickly, Pitch threw his arms out, and with a thunderous _BOOM_, the black sand fizzled out into all corners of the chamber and dissolved. Nixie was thrown back from the blast, the light from the Mark on her hand ceasing.

"_WHAT ARE YOU—"_

"Greetings, Mother Nature," Pitch said smoothly.

And in she came, accompanied by the Sister of Fire. Eldrid glanced around nervously, like she could feel what she had just interrupted, but Mother Nature merely just locked a cool stare on the Nightmare King and Sister of Water.

"It appears we have a change in locale."

"Change in what?" Nixie gasped, stumbling to her feet.

"Our dear old Father Time has frozen time in Charlotte's little town," Mother Nature informed them. "It's impenetrable."

"The Guardians got _Father Time _involved?" Pitch asked in disbelief. _This time, they really mean business._

"Indeed," Mother Nature said. "Which signifies no more utilizing the town and the people in it to claim her. We're forced to change tactics. Not being in the town means she's changed location."

"I'm willing to bet she's at one of the Guardians' realms," Pitch blurted.

"My thoughts exactly. They have already accepted the declaration of war. Now it is time to rally our troops and allies." Mother Nature looked at Pitch. "Unless, you're able to access her dreams."

"Not just yet," Pitch said. "But my strength is returning with a certain kind of glory. I'll be ready soon."

Nixie's unspoken confusion was almost palpable, but he ignored it.

"Good, very good," Mother Nature said, fiddling with the newly-grown vines from her mask. "So it seems until we've discovered where the Guardians are now . . . we have some time to plan. I already have ideas for allies. Once I've contacted them—"

"Mother," Nixie gasped suddenly. "Why are you doing this?!"

Silence as cold as death. Mother Nature cocked her head at Nixie. "Why, to acquire Charlotte, Nixie. You know that."

"But . . . why all this trouble over one child? A war, Mother! You're threatening _war_ over a girl!"

Mother Nature's jaw tightened. Pitch felt the power flare up in the room. "She is necessary to my plan, Nixie."

"_What _plan? You haven't breathed a word of this plan to any of us!"

"This plan is mine and mine alone. No one can know of it until it comes into true fruition."

"Mother, that's absurd!"

"Nixie," Eldrid hissed.

Mother Nature, nonchalant, ripped a strand of vine off her mask, a new one growing instantly in its place. "Answer a question for me. You and your sisters . . . combined, who could you do?"

Nixie folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. "Kill each other?"

"Yes. But also, you can both destroy and create." The vine grew and lashed around Mother Nature's shoulders like a shawl. "Just like the growth of nature. You, Eldrid, supply the heat of the sun. Aura gives the sweet kiss of oxygen. You, dear Nixie, offer the water necessary for survival. And then Xylan supplies the health."

"I do not see where you're going with this," Nixie fumed.

"But you four can also annihilate. You can burn, strangle, bury, drown. But you choose not to—we could have eliminated the _entire human race _by now. For years now, we've chosen the path of sacred protection of humankind and their ideals. But their aspirations have turned dark. They utilize our gifts to destroy each other and the other forms of life on Earth. Yet . . . yet we _continue _to _aid _them. We are _tied _to them with rope of melting steel."

Pitch jumped back as flames suddenly burst from the floor, rising up like walls. Eldrid and Nixie did the same, alarmed by the outburst. Black clouds gathered at the top of the chamber as fire danced around Mother Nature like they were worshiping her.

And he saw hope on her face, hope shining through like a supernova. But then it flickered away, her face returning stoic. The flames and clouds dissolved into nothingness and the air stilled.

"That's my plan, Nixie," Mother Nature said, calm. "To sever that rope of melting steel." She eyed Pitch and added, "Nightmare King, care to take a walk with me?"

"As long as you don't pull _that _trick again," he replied.

=!=!=!=!=!=!=!

They went to Mother Nature's dark room. As soon as the door of leaves closed, Mother Nature asked, "Why do you stay, Pitch?"

"Why do I _what_?"

"Stay. I can sense your uncomfortable curiosity. You are not a prisoner here. You may go and return as you please."

"I don't exactly have anywhere to _go,_" Pitch said. "My only home is underground and a jail cell."

"No." Mother Nature suddenly smiled coyly at him. "No, that's not the reason, is it? It goes deeper."

"I am the Boogeyman," Pitch stated, flat. "I don't go very deep."

He turned to leave, but then stopped cold when Mother Nature said, "It's the last Mother Nature, isn't it? The one you were close to?"

"I didn't know the last one."

"Yes you did. I can feel it, Nightmare King." His blood boiled at the smile in her voice. "You promised her something . . . something imperative."

"My promises are none of your business."

"You stay for her? Come clean or else I'm just going to find out myself."

Pitch clenched his teeth and folded his hands behind his back. "If you _must _know . . . yes, I did promise her something. I was with her when her time as Mother Nature was wearing thin, before you were chosen to replace her. She wanted . . . she wanted me to be there for the next Mother Nature, to always help and assist her, because it's an awful yet beautiful job with tremendous pressure. So I promised her I would. And here I am, for you, not breaking my promise."

"That's very noble of you," Mother Nature said. "It almost makes me sick."

"I'll be in your garden."

=!=!=!=!=!=!=!

Returning to his tree, Pitch settled down and breathed slowly. He touched the locket that was shrouded under his cloak, sighing.

"You owe Daddy huge, Seraphina."


	18. Fire and Ice Pt 1

**Chapter 18: Fire and Ice Pt 1**

So as it turned out, the Easter Bunny was very good at Go Fish.

Charlotte had found an old deck of cards in her bag and offered a game to the Guardians (excluding North, for he was driving the sleigh), and Bunnymund was a cards shark. With a smirk, he collected his ninth pair of cards and added it to his pile.

"I swear to MiM you're cheating," Jack claimed.

Bunnymund shrugged and grinned smugly. "Hey, don't blame me; blame the lucky rabbit's foot."

"But you've got two feet!"

"Double the luck, mate!"

As they bickered, Charlotte rolled her eyes at Sandy, who rolled his eyes at her. "It's like they're children," she commented, and he nodded in agreement.

"We are not children!" Jack and Bunnymund yelled in unison.

"Jack! Bunny! I vill turn this sleigh around, so help me!" North shouted from the reins.

Settling into silence, Charlotte whispered, "Got any Jacks, Jack?" to which he groaned and handed her a card.

"Veeeeery funny," he muttered.

"It's a gift, honestly," she replied. She looked over the side of the sleigh and spotted white mist and mountains through the meek dawn light. "Where are we?"

"Somevhere on very edge ov Mother Russia!" North chortled. "Home sveet home!"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it 'sweet,'" Bunnymund muttered. "But to each his own."

Suddenly, a monstrous screech consumed the morning sky. A sliver of red and gold whipped by the sleigh, vanishing in an instant but shaking the sleigh. Charlotte fell back against her seat hard, moaning, "What in the world—?"

"Ohhh no," North said. He was glancing around wildly, the palest Charlotte had ever seen him. "Oh no oh no oh no! Very bad! This is no good!"

"Nicholas St. North," Tooth started. "Please tell me that was _not _what I think it was."

"But I do not vish to lie to you, Tooth!" North cried, panicked.

"What?! What are you guys freaking out about?" Charlotte demanded.

Another _whoosh _of crimson swooped by, cawing like a sonic boom. North slapped the reins and yelled _"Ya!" _The reindeer burst forward with more speed, forcing Charlotte to hold on and drop her hand of cards.

"North! What is that thing?" Jack shouted.

"Vone of Russia's most feared and wondrous creatures!" North replied. "The _zhar-ptitsa_!"

"English, please!"

The creature made itself known to them and floated in their way a few yards away. It stretched its magnificent scarlet and gold wings out and threw its head back, sparkling and flickering. It resembled a large peacock, with a long thread of shimmering red and gold tail feathers and talons as sharp as spears. It opened its silver beak and a massive battle squawk was released from its throat, making all of Russia tremble.

"The Firebird," North gasped.

"You're _kidding _me," Charlotte groaned.

North yanked the reins to the left as the Firebird charged and zoomed by them, missing the sleigh by inches.

"Well, what does it want?!" Bunnymund cried, drawing his boomerangs.

"Is it working for Mother Nature?" Jack asked, staff in both hands.

"It better not be," Charlotte growled, unsheathing her sword and muffling an "oof!" as the weight hit her, making her barely able to hold up the sword.

Jack, Sandy, and Tooth took the air as the Firebird swooped back with a massive croak. It reared up and became a silhouette in the sun, and then nosedived down, its feathers alight with flames.

"G-G-Guys," Charlotte stammered. "The Firebird…_is on fire._"

"Ya don't say?" Bunnymund grumbled.

North swerved erratically to the side as the Firebird soared inches above the sleigh. Flames stuck to the side of the sleigh and began to spread across the wood.

"_MY BABY!" _North wailed. "Somevone put it out!"

But as the words left his lips, the sleigh heaved a tremendous _CRACK. _Charlotte, with a scream prepared in her throat, felt the sleigh dissemble beneath her, the open air appearing between the shards of sleigh and licks of flame.

Numerous things happened at once. Charlotte was falling, but two hands were grabbing her, and there were shouts of alarm. And then _whooshing _and the sound of creaky branches and grunts. When the world seemed to stop, Charlotte slowly opened her eyes.

She was hanging in mid-air, gazing out at a rocky, powdery terrain. The ground was slanted and flat, and boulders and shards of stone scattered across the land. The wind was loud and blistering, whistling mournfully into the silent, chilled air.

Charlotte realized she was being held up by a strong, furry arm. Behind her, Bunnymund panted, "Ya alrigh', Sheila?"

"Yeah . . ."

Bunnymund let go of the curve of rock he'd caught and they were on the ground. Charlotte dusted the pebbles from her coat and glanced around nervously. "Um—where is everybody?"

"We musta got split up," Bunnymund said, checking his egg bombs. "When the death trap—er, sleigh was breaking apart, I just kinda grabbed ya." He sniffed a few times, his ears twitching from side to side. "They're not too far away. But with the Firebirdbrain on the loose, we gotta find them soon and get back on the road."

"Fabulous," Charlotte muttered.

A screeching caw sounded above them. Bunnymund and Charlotte ducked down at the same time. "We gotta hide," Bunnymund whispered, and the two scurried off into the mountain.

=!=!=!=!=!=!

"OY! MY SLEIGH!"

Jack rolled his eyes as North fervently collected the pieces to the sleigh. The thing was completely charred and burned into two halves.

"Vhen I get my hands on that Firebird," North snarled. "I svhear to MiM, I am going to be having a cookout!"

As he continued to curse in Russian, Jack chuckled, "Man, if I knew Russian, I would say my innocence would be broken, huh Charlotte?"

Receiving no response, Jack frowned and surveyed the area. His heart sank as he realized Charlotte was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Charlotte? And Bunny?" Tooth shouted.

"Well, crap," Jack said, scratching his neck. "We lost the Second-Sighted One."

Sandy smacked his palm to his forehead.

"They must have separated when the sleigh broke apart." Tooth wrung her hands. "Oh, this is awful! We're always strongest together."

"I'm sure they're fine," Jack said. "If the Firebird shows its face, Bunnymund can handle it."

Suddenly, Sandy jingled and pointed.

Jack, Sandy, and Tooth huddled together as the Firebird landed before them, blowing up rock and snow. It croaked, shaking the earth under its talons.

Jack readied his staff. Tooth gripped her rainbow dagger. Sandy snapped his whips out.

"Vhat are you all looking at? Oh!" North's demeanor flipped from grouchy to focused as he drew his swords.

The Firebird analyzed the Guardians with calculating obsidian eyes. It leaned forward, stared at each Guardian specifically for a few seconds, and then shook its head, taking the sky without another sound.

"Um," North said, deflating. "Vhat . . . just happened?"

"Oh no," Tooth said, wings fluttering faster. "Don't you guys know what this means?"

North, Sandy, and Jack looked at each other.

"Uh, he forgot he left the stove on?" Jack suggested.

Tooth massaged her temples. "I swear to MiM, sometimes . . . ugh, no! It means it wasn't attacking us for any of _us. _It has a different target!"

A shadow fell across Jack's face. "_Crap_."

=!=!=!=!=!=!

"Soooo," Charlotte started. "You created Australia."

"Yup." Bunnymund traced the markings on one of his boomerangs. "It was pretty fun."

They were hidden away in a cave, carved into the side of the mountain. Their plan was to go find the rest of the Guardians after a few hours, to give the Firebird time to go search elsewhere.

Bunnymund hugged himself and scowled. "Arg, it's so bloody cold! I can barely feel my feet!"

"Guess they're not as lucky as you thought, huh?" Charlotte tried.

Bunnymund sighed with a tiny smile. "Nah, they're still lucky."

Charlotte chuckled, but then her smile wavered and she looked at Bunnymund seriously. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Well, okay, you remember that guy that broke into the North Pole earlier? Sam Hain?"

"Yeah, he's a little hard to forget."

"Well, Tooth was talking about all that reincarnation stuff, and how spirits eventually die and someone else replaces them. Did that happen to Mother Nature?"

Bunnymund pursed his lips and considered. "Yeah. We knew the Mother Nature before this one. She was Pitch's daughter."

Charlotte did a double take. "Pitch's _what_?"

"Long story," Bunnymund said. "But yeah, she musta passed on sometime within the past two decades or so."

"That's crazy."

"That's the life of a spirit for ya." Charlotte was silent, so Bunnymund pressed on, "Why do ya ask?"

"Hmm. I dunno. I was just thinking about . . ."

"About?" Bunnymund urged, curious.

"About Jack." Charlotte scowled at the smirk the Pooka sported. "Not in that way, Fluffball. Last night, he told me about his lack of communication with the Man in the Moon."

"Oh." Bunnymund rolled his shoulders, cramped in the tiny cave. "That's a story for th' ages, that one."

"No one really talked to him for three hundred years?" she asked.

"Not exactly. I mean, we talked to him . . . sometimes. But during those three centuries, all Jack did was make trouble," Bunnymund said. "The Easter of '68? One of the biggest setbacks I've eva had. Afta that, I didn't even wanna talk to him. But it wasn't until he became a Guardian when I even knew about what MiM did. Or, really, what he didn't do."

Charlotte stared out of the cave, watching the sun peek out from behind the edge of the mountain, pink streaks decorating the sky. "I just think it's a shame."

"It _is _a shame," Bunnymund agreed. "If ya ask me, I'd just say MiM saw something in Jack that he didn't see in us."

"I was gonna say a cocky grin," Charlotte said, "but you've got that."

"You betta believe it. I think it's the fact that he was the youngest. He's still a kid, afta all."

"True." Charlotte leaned back against the cave wall, feeling the coolness, despite wearing three layers of clothing. She thought about Jack, Sandy, Tooth, and North, and how they were faring against their situation. Were they worried? Tooth was probably pulling her feathers out in concern. North was probably freaking out about the sleigh's fiery detour. If North cared about his sleigh as much as she believed, she and Bunnymund would be on their own for a long time.

Charlotte snuck a peek at the Easter Bunny. To her surprise, he was painting an egg with a baby paintbrush.

"Do you just carry eggs and painting supplies wherever you go?" she asked.

Bunnymund nodded, concentrated on his work. "It's a great way to kill time. Ooh, lookit what I made earlier." He pulled the eggs from the front of his leather strap and held them out for her to see. They were a dazzling gold, lighting up the dank cave. "I made this new gold paint a few months ago! Aren't they beauties?"

Charlotte grinned at the happiness emanating from Bunnymund. He seemed so proud and so blissful with his work. It made her happier just to witness it. "They're gorgeous! I'm assuming you're hiding them for me this April?"

Bunnymund smiled and shrugged. "I was actually gonna hide them for lil' Sophie."

"Aww! She'd love them, Bunny," Charlotte gushed. "She'd love anything from you, though."

Bunnymund sighed, content, and settled back comfortably against the cave wall. "My soft spot for that lil' ankle biter grows every day." As Charlotte grinned in approval, he added, "You sure are lucky to be Second-Sighted and all that. You'll be able to see us foreva."

"Hopefully," Charlotte said. She tried not to let her grin crack, but by the way Bunnymund frowned, she hadn't done that well of a job.

"What's up? Ya nervous about somethin'?"

"N-No," she answered, flushing and hating herself a second later. "It's just the cold."

"Really?" Bunnymund looked concerned. "Well—and I'm gonna be a gentleman about this—my fur keeps me warm and everything, so if ya wanna get closer, it'd be fine."

"Nah, I'm good. Thank you though," Charlotte said sincerely.

They dropped into silence. Charlotte kept her eyes trained outside, furious with herself for almost spilling her guilt. It probably would be nice to talk about it, considering it was burning a hole through her gut, but not with Bunnymund, a Guardian!

Although . . . maybe he'd get it. He seemed pretty chill. Besides, why would he care in general? What she had done probably happened millions of times a day.

But that wouldn't make it any less painful, on either of their ends.

"Bunnymund?"

The Easter Bunny perked and looked at her. "Whazzup?"

"I have to tell you something." Clutching her sword for encouragement, Charlotte opened her mouth to pour out her secret, but a slamming outside stopped her. She spun around to see the head of the Firebird inches from the mouth of the cave, blinking in and snarling.

"I found the Firebird," she squeaked.


	19. Fire and Ice Pt 2

**Chapter 19: Fire and Ice P2**

"Holy MiM!" Bunnymund shouted.

Charlotte scuttled back as the Firebird plunged its beak down. Blinking up through the dimness of the cave, her heart pounded a million beats at once.

The Firebird, realizing how its prey was out of reach, backed up and then slammed its body into the side of the mountain, making everything quiver like they were in the world's biggest massage chair.

"We can't be in here," Bunnymund growled, wielding both of his boomerangs. "Birdie might cause an avalanche and trap us."

"Any ideas?" Charlotte shouted, holding her hands over her head.

Bunnymund cleared his throat and thumped the ground with his foot. Upon the touch, the ground collapsed under into a dark whole.

"What the _he_—" Charlotte began to screech, but as soon as she was swallowed up by the blackness, she was soaring upwards into light. Bunnymund caught her scrunched-up body as the hole closed next to him. To Charlotte's disbelief, they were _behind _the Firebird now.

"Alrigh', Featherface!" Bunnymund cried, throwing Charlotte aside and flashing out his boomerangs. She landed ungracefully on her stomach with a comedic "Waaaa!" "Ya wanna dance? Let's dance!"

Then the Easter Bunny sprang into action. In a gasp he was thumping toward the Firebird on all fours, and then leaping so high into the air that his silver fur matched the gloomy Russian sky. Both boomerangs rocketed from his paws, and as soon as Charlotte had touched the hilt of her sword, they were banging into the Firebird's temples, causing the beast to shriek.

The Firebird, angered, snapped at Bunnymund with its silver beak, but the Easter Bunny was too fast, dodging every snap with ease and catching his boomerangs as they ricocheted back to him. But then the Firebird waved its wing, spreading tiny beams of flame to the ground. They popped like sparklers, and transformed into baby Firebirds.

"Aw," Bunnymund said, smirking. "Wittle Birdbrain ankle biters! And me, without bottles for ya."

"Bunnymund, this really isn't the time to be condescending!" Charlotte called.

"Quit worrying!" Bunnymund knelt down to one of the baby Firebirds. "Whazzup, lil' Featherface?"

The baby Firebird blinked up at Bunnymund, and then two long silver fangs burst from its beak as its eyes glowed red-hot.

Bunnymund's face fell. "Crikey."

=!=!=!=!=!=!

"Char-looooooootte? Kanga-roooooooo?"

Jack shook his head as his calls echoed into the abyss that was the mountains. If he didn't return to Burgess with Charlotte, Jamie was going to _kill _him, unless Mother Nature beat him to it.

The sound of quiet buzzing hummed behind him. "Nothing?" Tooth asked.

"Not a peep," Jack replied. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"Oh, just a little," Tooth said weakly.

A crackle of golden dust appeared next to her. On the ground, Sandy was gesturing them down.

=!=!=!=!=!=!

Charlotte pinched the space between her eyebrows and hid her face.

She greatly respected the Guardian of Hope, but she had to acknowledge that his overconfidence was a fatal flaw. She winced as Bunnymund was shot at again by the baby Firebirds, yelping and running around like he was trying to attract the attention of a passing airplane.

She was crouched behind a line of snow-dusted boulders. Yards away, the Firebird was watching the scene with intense amusement, lounging atop the side of the mountain.

Charlotte knew it was useless to try and attack for real. She could barely hold up her sword, better yet, actually try to take down an enemy with it. She appreciated MiM's attempt to try and prepare her for the dangers ahead, but it wasn't the most successful thing when her sword weighed more than her.

But Bunnymund needed help. Charlotte wracked her brain and peeked out from behind the boulder, watching a baby Firebird tackle Bunnymund. "C'mon brain, c'mon brain, c'mon brain, give me something good!" she hissed. Then her eye widened in realization as she saw the baby Firebirds' fangs glisten in the sun. "That's it!"

Charlotte took a deep breath and unsheathed her sword. "This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done," she sighed. Then she stood up and charged the baby Firebird on top of Bunnymund. "Hey Birdie!" she cried, swinging her sword back. "Hands off the rabbit!"

_CLANG!_

The baby Firebird wailed in pain as one of its fangs tumbled from its beak and pierced the snow. The other babies huddled back as Charlotte stared at the tooth, and then glanced up at the sky. "Aaaaany minute now . . ."

=!=!=!=!=!=!

As the other Guardians were regrouping and discussing the idea of splitting up and searching the mountains, Tooth froze in the middle of her conversation with North and took the air, multi-colored wings prickling and standing up on end.

"Tooth?" North questioned.

Tooth's Mini-Fairies were instantly around her face, tweeting in worry. But then Tooth's eyes bugged and shot to the horizon, practically melting the snow with her heated pink gaze.

"I'm getting a little freaked out here," Jack muttered to Sandy.

"MANDIBULAR CANINE!" Tooth barked, zipping in the direction of her gaze. "Four point eight miles north!"

"Ve must follow her!" North urged. "Is not good idea to go alone!"

Sandy formed a sand cloud big enough for him and North to stand on, and then the two of them and Jack raced after Tooth.

The miles seemed to dissolve before Jack's eyes. Tooth darted left and right, appearing hell-bent on finding this newly-lost tooth. But who in the world was losing a tooth in the middle of Russian mountains?

Tooth was flying over a break in the mountain when she stopped suddenly. "Bunny! Charlotte!"

The relief spread from Jack's chest to his entire body upon finding Charlotte and the kangaroo. But then it melted into alarm as he noticed the Firebird puffing up some yards away, and tinier versions of the Firebird attacking Charlotte and Bunnymund.

Charlotte glanced up at them upon hearing her name, and her face broke out into a huge smile. "I knew it! Bunnymund, look!"

"Oh, I see 'em, Sheila." Bunnymund threw a baby Firebird off. "I'm a little busy right now, though!"

Immediately the Guardians rushed in to help. Sandy crafted a bazooka-like weapon from his sand and fired it, capturing four babies in a golden net. North jumped off the cloud of sand and landed strongly, catching the babies off guard and slashing them back. Tooth collected the baby fang she'd sensed, and after giving it to one of her Mini-Fairies to return to the Tooth Palace, joined in the fight and knocked back three babies with her feathery fists. And Jack froze the baby snarling against Charlotte's blade on the spot and tipped it over.

"Miss me?" he asked her casually, sporting his cocky grin.

"For once, yes," Charlotte laughed, wiping sweat off her forehead.

Once all the babies had been defeated, the Guardians turned confidently to the Firebird. But it wasn't attacking—it was merely perched there in front of them, blinking curiously.

"Did we ever actually figure out what it wants?" Tooth asked.

"Not entirely," Bunnymund said drily.

"It's not attacking me," Charlotte spoke. She took a few tentative steps forward, peering at the Firebird. "If it was working for Mother Nature, wouldn't it have tried to carry me away at this point?"

The Guardians nodded in agreement.

"Well, North, you know the legend," Jack said. "What does this thing normally go after?"

"Is hard to say," North answered, scratching his head, seemingly baffled. "Traditionally, thee Firebird vas prone to steal golden apples from kings and bring hope to many lands vho needed it. But ve do not have apples."

"And _I _bring enough hope to this little group," Bunnymund said.

"Sooo . . . what does it want?" Jack said.

Charlotte thought hard about the information North had given. Then, glancing at Bunnymund, a light bulb practically appeared above her head like a halo.

"Bunnymund!" she cried. "It's your new eggs!"

Every eye swiveled to the Easter Bunny, who covered the golden eggs strapped across his chest protectively. "Oh, for the love of—"

"That is it!" North said triumphantly. "The Firebird saw your eggs and thought they were apples! That is why it attacked us."

"And why it was hunting us," Charlotte put in.

"Well, there you go!" Jack said. "Just give it the eggs, kangaroo, and we're as good as gone."

"Aw, what!" Bunnymund pointed a ferocious glare at them all. "Don't I get a say in this? They're my eggs!"

"Wait, wait, wait. We can't make Bunny give up his eggs. That's not fair," Tooth interjected.

Sandy nodded in agreement. He whizzled up some dreamsand and constructed the image of an egg breaking above his head.

"Prove they are not apples," North translated, stroking his beard. "How?"

Sandy held his hand out to Bunnymund, asking politely for an egg. When Bunnymund hesitated, Sandy smiled in understanding and walked toward the Firebird, hands behind his back.

"Sandy?" Jack hissed. "What're you—"

Sandy approached the Firebird calmly and with a smile. The legendary bird tensed as the Sandman came closer, drinking him in with shrewd, narrowed eyes. From behind his back, Sandy brought out a perfect replica of Bunnymund's eggs, so spot-on Bunnymund glanced down in surprise to check he still had all of his.

Tooth gasped quietly. "It's dreamsand."

Still smiling, Sandy showed the fake egg to the Firebird, letting the beast sniff it and analyze it. When it seemed confused, Sandy cracked the fake egg against the ground and pretended to have yolk ooze from the egg, even though it was just more sand. Sandy showcased the fake egg to the Firebird with his hands, silently presenting the mix-up.

The Firebird was still for many seconds. Then it nodded and cawed, dipping its head in respect to the Sandman. And then it took the air and soared away, a massive streak of flickering, fiery vermillion, yellow, and orange.

"Wooooooow," Charlotte gushed, turning to Sandy with an awestruck grin. "That was amazing!"

The other Guardians commended Sandy for his quick-thinking and cunning. Bunnymund put a paw on his shoulder and gave him a grateful, almost shy, smile. "That meant a lot to protect my eggs, mate. Thank you."

Sandy flashed a smile that seemed to be encased with sunbeams.

Something light landed on Charlotte's head, so light she barely even felt it. "What the . . ." She plucked it from her hat: a feather, so brilliantly mixed red and yellow, she thought she was holding solidified paint.

"That's a Firebird feather!" North exclaimed.

"Um, why aren't I on fire right now?" Charlotte asked.

"Once feather is plucked from the Firebird, is no longer enflamed," North said excitedly. "But still holds great magical qualities. It could be very useful during quest!"

"Hmmm." Charlotte tapped her cheek. "Magical enough to fix up a rickety old sleigh?"

While the rest of them cheered, Bunnymund pulled his ears down over his face and groaned.


End file.
